Waste Not
by LightAlpha25
Summary: It's been two years since Will Turner sailed into the horizon as captain of the Flying Dutchman, and Elizabeth is pining away where he left her. Then out of the blue, the Black Pearl comes into port, Captain Barbossa at the helm. Suddenly, Elizabeth has a chance to return to the open sea, and, just maybe, start living again. Set mostly between the third and fourth movies.
1. Chapter 1

**Waste Not**

 **Chapter 1**

Elizabeth sat alone on the beach, watching the sun set for what seemed like the millionth time. There was no green flash, no _Flying_ _Dutchman_ , and no Will Turner sailing on the horizon. Her husband was not expected for another eight years. There was no reason to be sitting and waiting. But, alas, she was sick at heart. Looking out for Will, as hopeless as it was, gave her some small comfort.

"Care for a cup o' tea, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth was mildly startled by Captain Teague's sudden appearance behind her. It was uncanny how silently the old pirate could move about. It would behoove her to learn a thing or two from him.

"That does sound rather nice actually," she replied, managing a slight smile.

"Good. Come and make us some then."

He turned and left without another word, expecting her to follow. She couldn't help but smile genuinely at the old scoundrel. What would she have ever done without him?

* * *

Elizabeth sat alone on the beach, watching the sun set for what seemed like the billionth time. There was no green flash, no _Flying_ _Dutchman_ , and no Will Turner sailing on the horizon…

But wait, she did see something. A ship. And her heart nearly leapt out of her chest when she recognized those unmistakable black sails.

"The _Pearl_ ," she whispered to herself.

Before she could think about it, she was running full tilt across the beach, kicking up sand with every step. If the _Black_ _Pearl_ was coming into port, then she would be there to meet it.

Captain Barbossa couldn't help but smile to himself when he saw her through his spy glass. She was practically bouncing up and down with anticipation on shore, as if he and this sorry lot were worth getting excited over. But then, maybe she was expecting Jack. The thought only made him smile more. She'd see who had come out on top in the end.

"Ahoy!" Elizabeth yelled to them.

Several crewmen went to the side of the boat to see who it was. "Elizabeth!" Ragetti called with a smile. Suddenly, there were many smiles on deck. Those of the crew who knew Elizabeth were more than happy to see her again. But of course Barbossa couldn't just let his men stand about.

"Quit daydreamin' and bring us in, yeh motherless dogs!"

And with that, everyone scampered back into place. The _Black_ _Pearl_ was at port in no time.

Elizabeth greeted everyone fondly as they came ashore. She might have even been so bold as to hug a few, but the smell kept her at bay. She was all smiles nonetheless.

Barbossa was the last one off of the ship. "Well well, if it isn't the King herself, waitin' ashore like an excited young dog."

She smirked happily. "Nice to see you, too, Barbossa." She looked behind him. "Is Jack not with you?"

Just then, Barbossa's monkey climbed up onto his master's shoulder and looked at her quizzically. It was Barbossa's turn to smirk. "If yeh be referrin' to Jack Sparrow, no; I can't say that he is."

She put a hand on her hip and looked at him knowingly. "I can't imagine Jack ever parting with the _Pearl_ _willingly_."

"Hm. Well yeh can imagine whate'er yeh like, missy. Only let us continue this conversation with a bottle o' rum somewhere, hmm?"

The crew gave a small cheer at that. Elizabeth turned to them. "First round's on me, boys!" she exclaimed, to which they gave a large cheer, and off they went, following her lead.

* * *

The crew settled at the _Drunken_ _Lady_ for a night of drinking and gambling and other various debaucheries, each to his own. An intimate handful remained around Elizabeth, swapping tales.

"And he was so keen on me that eventually Teague had to draw his pistol just to keep him at bay—" Everyone laughed. "—His own cousin, can you believe it? Jack Sparrow comes of a wild family, to be sure." Elizabeth took another swallow of her drink.

Barbosa, for the time being, only sat back and listened, enjoying his own drink and watching her talk. She was lively enough now, but she looked worn and weary underneath her smile. And if she was petite before, now she was downright scrawny. The last couple years obviously hadn't been altogether kind. She also had two small Oriental symbols tattooed on her left wrist. That was new.

He felt a hand clap down on his shoulder, and suddenly old Teague himself was sitting amongst them.

"Good of you to visit me in my loneliness, Barbossa," he greeted.

"Yeh've not been altogether _too_ lonely, as I understand it, Teague. Yeh've had Her Majesty here to keep yeh company."

Elizabeth chimed in. "I was just telling them about some of your more insatiable relatives, Captain."

"Insatiable for a fair word for 'em, Lizzy," Teague replied good-naturedly, raising his glass.

* * *

Later in the night, Teague invited Barbossa to his quarters on the _Troubadour_ for a drink and a chat, captain to captain.

Barbossa made himself comfortable. "What be on yer mind, Teague? 'Tis not like yeh to be this sociable."

"I'll be honest with you, Hector," he replied, sitting down, "I never thought I'd be glad to see you."

Barbossa gave a half-annoyed smile. "Likewise."

"I have a proposition for you…that could benefit all of us."

"I'm listenin'."

"'Tis regardin' Miss Lizzy."

Barbossa looked curious.

"Take her with you."

Barbossa became skeptical. "And exactly what _benefits_ were yeh thinkin' of?"

"There are a few positions aboard the _Pearl_ which need filled. She's an able enough pirate; she'd fit the bill, wherever you put her. And, gods above, it'd do her some good."

"…She was lookin' a bit rough around the edges. What's wrong with her?"

Teague looked away. "She's pining away for that husband o' hers. Havin' a rough go of it. And she's bored out of her mind, though she won't admit it. Frankly, she's grown depressing. Do us all a favor and get her off this island."

Barbossa stared into his wine, thinking it over. At last, he gave a friendly smile and finished off his drink. "I suppose in any case the lass may be an amusement."

* * *

Elizabeth sat alone on the beach, watching the sun set for what seemed like the gazillionth time. There was no green flash, no Flying Dutchman, and no Will Turner sailing on the horizon. Footsteps in the sand behind her drew her out of her depressing revelry, along with the chitter of an undead monkey.

"Barbossa." She was about to get up, but he motioned for her to stay put.

For a moment, he just looked out over the water. "Teague tell me yeh've not been piratin'."

"Oh, well…no, not recently."

"Pirate Lord o' the South China Seas. King o' the Brethren Court. And yeh haven't put to sea once since we dropped yeh off here. 'Tis shameful to say the least."

"I'm a Pirate Lord by default, remember?"

"Aye, well enough." He sat down beside her, a little to her surprise. "But yeh served well as King when it came down to it. Even earned a little respect from the Brethren. Oughtn't let that wear off so quick, don't yeh think?"

She looked out to the horizon again.

"Besides which," he continued, casting her a vaguely sympathetic look, "mopin' around on this god-forsaken island won't bring him back any quicker."

Something like anger flashed into her eyes for a second, but they quickly grew dull again. "What do you propose I do then? Commandeer the next boat bound for Singapore?"

"Nay. The China Seas would eat yeh alive. Two years or more on land. Yeh've gone soft, to be sure."

"I have not," she said indignantly.

Barbossa stood. "Yeh have, missy. There be no disputin' it."

She stood as well and faced him boldly. "I am just as seaworthy as that band of miscreants you call a crew."

There it was. Some of that spark she used to have.

"I doubt that, but we'll put it to the test. Have yerself aboard the Pearl by first light tomorrow."

"Wh...What?"

"I be in need of a first mate. Me last one died o' snake bite three months past. And I daresay yeh'll need the experience if y'ever hope to sail pirate waters again."

"What makes you think—"

"Cap'n Teague has given me his blessin' to rid the island of yeh, as if would be a blessin' to hisself to be rid of yer mopin' about."

" _Captain_ _Teague_ has no right to simply give me away to whatever ship he chooses."

"Be on the ship or get left behind; that's all I have to say about it. Only think hard, missy. Yeh've been handed a right proper opportunity."

He turned and left, but he was not gone more than a minute before she took off across the beach. There was so much to pack.


	2. Chapter 2

**Waste Not**

 **Chapter 2**

The last Elizabeth saw of Shipwreck Island was Captain Teague tipping his hat in farewell, that mutt with the keys in its mouth standing at his side. After that, she didn't look back. It felt so good to be on a ship again, a moving ship that rode the waves and braced against the sea air, and she was eager to prove that she hadn't lost her sea legs.

All through that first day, she worked tirelessly along with everyone else, pitching in wherever she could. She would be the finest first mate the _Black_ _Pearl_ had ever known. Eat that, Barbossa. She only seriously messed up once, with the rigging, but Ragetti caught her mistake and showed her how to fix it before anyone else noticed.

The work put the wind back in her sails, so to speak. Not once that day did she think of Will or the tragedy that was her love life. She only felt the sun on her back and the spray of the sea on her face, as well as the occasional roving stare from some of the crew. She could tell right away that working hard would only be half the battle as first mate. The other half would be to prove that she was not to be messed with—and not simply because she was under Barbossa's protection. But she had her sword and a couple of good pistols. She wasn't too worried.

* * *

That evening, seeing Barbossa at the helm, she went up to give her report.

"All's shipshape, Captain," she said in brief.

Barbossa nodded shortly. "Send word to the cook to make somethin' nice and set my table for two."

"…Are you inviting me to dinner?"

"See that Cook has it on the table in less than two hours. And wash yer face."

Elizabeth wiped her hand across her cheek and looked at her fingers. They were blackened with powder. She shot the captain an indignant look and stomped off to carry out his orders, her nose in the air. Barbossa couldn't help but chuckle a bit to himself.

* * *

Dinner consisted of a roasted chicken and French bread, nothing quite as resplendent as the first time she had ever dined aboard the Black Pearl, but the ambiance called heavily to memory those days she'd been a captive on the cursed ship—not to mention the company. They even sat in the same places as they had all that time ago, and he was still the notorious pirate captain, only now she sat across from him as his officer.

"Why am I not eating with the crew?" She felt that she would be better served building a rapport with the men, rather than spending time with the captain.

"I be better served if me first mate be closer to me than to the crew. If yeh be set on dinin' with them, yeh may do so, I suppose, once a week or so, but yeh'll likely find I'm better company."

Elizabeth shrugged and let herself enjoy the food. Barbossa took pleasure in eating, but also in watching her eat. She did not restrict herself to dainty bites, nor did she lunge at her food—as he fondly remembered her doing before—but she was a scrawny little guttersnipe. It was good to see her with an appetite.

As he observed her, he again noticed her little Oriental tattoos. "What be the meanin' of those marks on yer wrist?"

For an instant, she became very flustered, and immediately her left hand dropped beneath the table out of his view. She then cleared her throat and assumed as nonchalant an air as she could. "Oh, they're more just for decoration really." She brought her hand back up and pointed to the marks. "That one means _water_ and that one means _life_. I just…thought they seemed pretty."

"Aye. That they be." It was more than obvious that she was lying, but he decided not to press it for the time being.

"What's our heading?" she asked, changing the subject.

He smiled at her obviousness. "The pickin's are good around Cuba this time o' year. We'll meander 'round its coast for a while, take a few merchant vessels. Sail a leisurely course for a few months."

"And then?"

"Then I've a mind to visit Singapore again. See whether yer titles carry any weight there anymore. Maybe they'll let us into Sao Feng's old bathhouse free o' charge." He laughed and took a drink.

"Sounds like a fine enough course to me." Elizabeth raised her glass, and Barbossa clinked his own against it before setting it back down.

* * *

Early the next morning, Barbossa set something in motion.

"Bohai," he called.

He got the man's attention. "Sir?"

Barbossa motioned him over with his head. The crewman approached and stood near him.

"Yer a Chinaman. Can yeh read Chinese?"

"Aye, Captain."

Barbossa looked around and spoke discreetly. "The first mate has some Chinese tattooed on her left wrist. Find out what it says for me."

"Aye…Captain? Maybe I get a little extra in return?" The fellow smiled and rubbed his fingers together.

"Hmm, now yer thinkin' like a pirate, lad. I'll give yeh somethin' for the information, but only if yer quiet about it. Now be off."

Quickly, Bohai went off to do the job, eager to earn what the captain would give him. He was the charts-man, and so he used that as an excuse to get near Elizabeth, saying that the captain had ordered him to teach her how to plot a course. He had what he needed in no time at all.

It was a little after noon when he found the chance to report back to Barbossa privately.

"Yeh have what I need, boy?"

"Aye, sir." Bohai seemed a bit downcast.

"What does it say then?"

"It says…" He lowered his voice. "… _beautiful_ _baby_."

Barbossa understood then and nodded grimly. "Ah…thank yeh, lad." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver coin, handing it to the man. "Don't spend it all in one place."

 **Hello readers :)**

 **As you probably guessed, I do not own any Pirates of the Caribbean characters or situations. There will be a few characters here and there, however, that I made up (like Bohai). Also, there are a few little ideas that I borrowed from other fanfictions, such as the tattoo thing. I'll try my best to point out whatever isn't totally mine. Please enjoy.**

 **All my love.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Waste Not**

 **Chapter 3**

Tattoos were painful to get. Barbossa figured it wasn't likely that Elizabeth would have gotten them for no reason. He wouldn't have cared one way or the other, but after she had acted so flustered about it at dinner, his curiosity had been piqued. Now that he knew the true meaning, it all made sense, but he felt almost like he knew too much.

* * *

"Fire!" Barbossa yelled.

"Fire all!" screamed Elizabeth.

The canons unleashed their fury like thunder, peppering the starboard side of the unfortunate merchant ship. Musket balls whizzed through the air as the sailors returned fire, but they had no real hope against the _Pearl_ and her motley crew.

"Prepare to board!" ordered the captain.

They sailed in close and the men began to swing across onto the opposing vessel, attacking any who stood against them. The mercantile sailors fought bravely, but really they were no match in the end, and their ship was left burning around them. The pirates quickly began to empty the ship of its cargo and loot the dead.

Those who remained alive were disarmed and lined up across the deck of the _Pearl._ Elizabeth walked in front of Barbossa towards the prisoners. She stopped in her tracks, however, when she saw that one of the sailors held a boy, dead in his arms. She just froze and stared, getting in Barbossa's way.

"He was the truest little cabin boy we'd ever had," wept the sailor, "And you blasted him. Just ended his little life right in its tracks."

Barbossa looked between the man and Elizabeth for a few seconds, then pushed her out of the way and stood in front of the man himself. "Keep walkin'", he said to her, then addressed the sailor, "Merchant, yer a little old to have yet learned a lesson so fundamental in life, and that's that bad things happen. Yer boy here was below when the canons hit, and that's regrettable, but he's met his Maker and I expect he's at peace."

The man was about to speak out, but Barbossa didn't give him the chance.

"Now the question is…" He drew his pistol and put it in the man's face. "…will yeh be joinin' him, sailor?"

There was a tense moment of silence, and then Barbossa pulled back and addressed the entire line of prisoners, waving his gun for emphasis.

"The same goes for the lot o' yeh! Yer at a crossroads, gentlemen. From this moment on, yeh be pirates, or yeh be dead men. Take a moment, sirs, and make yer choice."

There was another tense moment. Finally, the sailor with the boy stepped forward.

"I will never be a pirate," he said passionately.

"In yer case, mister, I can't say that I'm surprised." Barbossa raised his pistol and fired, burying a bullet in the man's head without further ado. "Don't mistake me, gents. I can't be wastin' ammunition on the rest of yeh. The act of mercy yeh just witnessed was an expensive one at that. If yeh choose death, yeh choose the plank."

There were seven sailors remaining. Four of them walked the plank. The other three were escorted to the brig until further notice.

"Get this deck swabbed!" Barbossa ordered, "Make way, yeh bloomin' cockroaches! All ahead full!"

Everyone hopped to it. Everyone except Elizabeth, who was sitting on the bottom step of the helm. She was just as pale as a ghost. Barbossa shook his head and walked over to her, leaning against the railing.

"…Yer young, Elizabeth. Yeh'll learn how to better swallow this sort o' thing in time."

"That poor boy", she replied hoarsely, "He couldn't have been more than ten years old. And that poor man…"

"Go to me cabin and pour yerself a short drink. Get yerself right again, and then return to yer station. We survivors have got to go on livin'." And with that, he left her to deal with herself.

* * *

Elizabeth didn't join him for dinner that evening, and Barbossa more or less respected that. After all, she'd witnessed a difficult thing. She had seen death before, of course. She'd even killed her fair share. But this was likely the first time she'd seen a kid get caught in the crossfire. And the way he'd handled it might not have improved her opinion of him. But what had she expected him to do? The boy was dead; there was no fixing that. The man was suffering; Barbossa ended it quickly for him. All he could do after that was business as usual. Elizabeth would just have to toughen up.

He went to bed with these thoughts, and though he felt quite at peace over the business of the day, he found himself unable to sleep. Such being the case, he got out of bed and strode quietly about the ship, stem to stern, personally looking everything over. He made it all the way to the galley before he noticed anything amiss, and he wouldn't have noticed at all if he hadn't heard a sniffle. There was Elizabeth, sitting on the floor behind a table, apparently finishing up a rather serious cry. Barbossa raised the lantern that he carried over her, and she quickly wiped her face, somewhat annoyed at having been found.

"Wouldn't yeh rather cry in the privacy of yer own quarters, Elizabeth?"

"Crying was never the plan, Captain. I was merely taking a walk…What are you doing here?"

"Takin' a walk." He set the lantern down on the table and took a seat. "Could've had this out over dinner, but this'll do. I know that some of the death today bothered yeh. I can understand—"

"It didn't exactly seem to bother you."

"I've seen it all before. It never gets easier to see, but yeh learn to be hard and press on. Death be but a part o' life."

"I'm tired of people dying when they shouldn't. My parents, my husband, my—" She began to cry again. "…I don't want to be hard and press on."

"…Must be horrible, losin' a child."

Elizabeth was nearly shocked out of her tears. Her fingers ran absently over her tattoo as she gaped at him in panic.

"Who told you?" she breathed.

"That ink on yer arm told me. I understand more than yeh may think."

She all but snarled and rose to her feet, meeting his eyes. "And what do you understand, Barbossa? What do you know of the loss I have endured?"

Barbossa stood, looking down hard into her eyes. "I be a pirate and twice yer age. What loss _haven't_ I endured? Me parents have likely been dead longer than yeh've been alive. Me lover's been dead these twenty years, and if our son still lives, I wouldn't know him if I passed him in the streets. Seems hardly right that I stand here listenin' to yer carryin' on, when, by God, I've heard it all before."

"I…I didn't know you had a son."

"Aye. And what did ye have?"

She wiped a tear away. "…A son", she whimpered, and the tears came again.

It surprised them both a little when she was suddenly wrapped in his arms, crying into his chest, but it happened so naturally that neither of them chose to question it. They stayed like that for a few short moments. She cried openly, clinging to his shirt, and he merely held her and patted her head, enjoying the fact that he could actually feel her warmth against him.

But it couldn't last. Eventually, her sobs began to lessen, and they both knew that they needed sleep more than anything. Barbossa was the one to separate them, though he did so gently.

"Go to bed now, missy. There'll be no sleepin' in tomorrow."

"Aye." She smiled weakly as she wiped the rest of her tears away and began to leave. She paused, though, before she climbed the steps. "Barbossa…will you tell me about your son?"

"Aye, but not tonight. Off with yeh now."

She perked up a bit and went on towards her quarters. He waited until she was well ahead of him before returning to his own, and as he settled into bed, he thought to himself, _what in the hell just happened?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Waste Not**

 **Chapter 4**

Elizabeth felt strangely… _okay_ about everything that had happened the previous day. She would never feel right about the dead cabin boy, or the others that they had murdered, but her opinion of the _Black_ _Pearl's_ crew hadn't truly been sullied. They were—mostly—good men deep down. And Barbossa…well, she had never had a good grasp on her feelings towards him. At the very first, he had been her kidnapper and enemy, but even then he had more or less looked after her, and when he could have done so much worse. But only about a year later, he had become her ally, and a very useful one at that. And yet, he proved time and again that he had well earned the title 'pirate.'

Nonetheless, he was a good captain. A dangerous and conniving old rogue he certainly was, but he provided well for his crew; he did his best to keep casualties minimal (mostly), and Elizabeth couldn't ignore that he had been there for her. She had been drowning in a roiling sea of despair, and he had dived in after her, shedding a new light on himself in the process. Now more than anything she found herself anxious for dinner, when they could finally talk. She had never realized it, but, well, Barbossa was actually really interesting, and she wanted to learn more.

And so at long last, evening came and dinner was served. The captain and first mate sat in their usual places at the table, and...nothing was said for a while. Barbossa, for once, wasn't sure what to say. Things had gotten just a little too vulnerable the night before, and though he did like to keep his first mates close, this one was suddenly closer than he'd intended, and a woman besides. He saw wear that might lead. If he wasn't careful, not only would they know way too much about each other's personal lives, but he would start wanting her. This path led to nothing but trouble.

"So what was his name? Your son, I mean," Elizabeth asked, breaking the silence.

…Had he ever shied away from the path of trouble before? "Nathaniel," he replied.

"Nathaniel Barbossa. Well that's a fine name, to be sure. And his mother? What was her name?"

"Catherine."

"Was she English?"

"I suppose yeh'd like to know me whole life's story, is that it?"

"Well I must admit, the idea is tempting, Captain. After all, I'm sure it would be fascinating."

Barbossa sighed, but gave a slight smile and leaned back in his chair. "Aye, she was half-English. I met her in Kingstown on St. Vincent, back in me youth when I was a gunner on a merchant ship. I stayed with her whene'er we put to port there."

"I see," Elizabeth said with interest, swallowing a piece of boiled potato, "So what happened?"

"Well…one day I came back, and there in her arms was me son."

"What did you do?" She leaned forward in her chair, her food all but forgotten.

Her eagerness seemed to amuse him. "I left me station and stayed with her for nearly a year." He sighed. "But I weren't the most useful o' lads on dry land, and finally I took another job at sea, sendin' back what money I could. I took up piratin' soon after; couldn't get back to her much. Anyhow, she died o' smallpox when Nathaniel was about seven, and he stowed away on some junk not long after. I know no more."

"How old were you when he was born?"

"I was likely nineteen or thereabouts."

"I see. Well that was a fascinating story, Barbossa, if not a little sad." She gave him a friendly, but rather pitying look.

"Don't go feelin' sorry for me, lass. I done well for meself in the followin' years, as yeh can see."

She glanced around. "The _Pearl_ is indeed very grand. You have everything, it seems."

"Almost," he replied, pouring himself another glass of wine.

The way he looked at her just then unsettled her a bit, as if, for an instant, she was a chest full of gold, there for the taking. She cleared her throat and offered her own glass for him to fill. "So where do you come from anyway?"

He smiled wryly. "Bit of everywhere, I suppose. Born in England to a half-Irish woman and a Portuguese sailor. Didn't have much to speak of, o' course, but I seen that ship captains had it the best. I ran away to sea when I was nigh on thirteen, and since then I seen the world. Don't know if yeh could rightly say I'm from any one place."

"Well I drink to your success, Captain. You're a man of the world if ever I saw one."

"Aye, now _that_ be rightly said."

Their glasses clinked together.

* * *

"Fire!" ordered the captain.

Once again, the _Black_ _Pearl_ had a merchant vessel in its sights, and the thunder of the canons filled the air. This vessel, however, was more heavily armed than the last, and returned fire. With a loud crash, a section of the _Pearl's_ railing exploded.

"Hard to starboard! Get in close!" yelled Elizabeth.

"Fire at will!" shouted Barbossa.

There was another sound of explosion, and the force of the blast as it hit the Pearl threw Elizabeth across the deck. Pain prickled all over her back and her ears rang loudly. She saw Barbossa slit the throat of a sailor who had swung over to fight, but then the world went black.

* * *

Elizabeth came to when she felt someone pick her up. She wasn't sure who; she was too dizzy to open her eyes.

"Take her to her quarters," ordered Barbossa's voice, "Assess damage! Get the wounded below! And clear this blasted deck!"

Suddenly, everything was quiet and she could feel her pillow against her cheek. Had she blacked out again? Tentatively, she opened her eyes. She was in her room, in her bed. Whoever had brought her in here had lain her down on her stomach, and when she tried to move, she could feel why. Her back was injured somehow, and it felt awful.

She was just beginning to wonder how she would be able to tend to herself when Barbossa entered the room.

"Barbossa," she asked weakly, "what's happened to me?"

"Yer back's full o' splinters, lass. Ye were too near the blast."

She saw now that he carried a small black bag. "What's that?"

"A medical bag. Belonged to me previous first mate. Comes in handy at times like these."

"What are you going to do?"

"The splinters need removin', o' course. Yeh've got a back like a porcupine." He sat down on the side of the bed and opened the bag. For a moment, he looked through its contents, and then at her back. "Yeh have a spare shirt, I expect."

"Yes. Why? Is this one ruined?" she asked half-sarcastically.

"Aye." He took hold of one of the spikes of wood sticking out of her flesh and yanked it out without warning.

She cried out in pain and surprise, which did not prove pleasant to Barbossa's ears. He pulled a short wooden rod out of his bag and all but shoved it in her face.

"Bite down," he said.

Noticing previous bite marks in the wood, she hesitated a bit, but took it between her teeth and braced herself. Rather than pull out another splinter, however, Barbossa drew out a small knife. Elizabeth spat out the rod.

"What are you doing?" she asked in alarm.

He didn't respond, but in one swift movement cut the back of her shirt open, collar to hem.

"Oh for goodness sake," she exclaimed, "Was that really necessary?"

He put the rod back in her mouth, and went to work pulling out all of the pieces from her back. Some were relatively large, while some were almost too small to see, especially with the blood getting in the way. Nevertheless, he carefully picked out every single piece, keeping her steady as she fussed—though, to her credit, she did try her best to put on a brave face.

Finally, he stopped.

"Is it over?" she asked.

"Bite down once more, missy. Yeh'll be needin' it for this part." He pulled the stopper out of a bottle of medical alcohol and splashed a generous amount on her back.

Elizabeth ground her teeth into the wood and screamed. It felt like a hundred red hot needles were being shot into her back, forcing tears from her eyes. At last, she gave up her bravery and cried a bit, miserable as she was. However, she did not fail to notice when the captain's hand came to rest comfortingly on the small of her back. It was rough against her smooth skin, but warm and gentle, and though its placement was innocent enough, all things considered, it brought the intimacy of this whole situation sharply into focus. Elizabeth chose to ignore it.

"Get yer bearings and then get yerself in order," he said, standing, "Cook'll bring yer dinner in here tonight. See that yeh have a shirt on by then."

"Of course," she smirked.

He turned to leave.

"Oh, Barbossa?"

He looked back. Even with the wounds and the tear-stained face, and even though he really couldn't see anything inappropriate, she certainly did look fetching, lying there without a shirt.

"We did take the ship, didn't we?"

He smiled. "Aye, lass. We're all a little richer for our trouble."

 **Just so you know, a lot of Barbossa's past, like the names of his son and lover, for example, I borrowed from another fanfiction. For those of you who may come across this story and recognize little bits from your own past BarbossaBeth stories, just know that you inspired me and I really appreciated your work. I hope you enjoy mine.**

 **All my love.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Waste Not**

 **Chapter 5**

Having taken two ships over the course of two months, the crew of the Black Pearl was well-provisioned and eager to spend a little of their swag. Barbossa set a course for Tortuga so they could do just that.

For a couple of weeks after the battle with the last ship, Elizabeth kept to her cabin more often and did lighter work. Her back was healing well and there was no sign of infection, but Ragetti shouldered some of her more laborious duties so that she might have every opportunity of recovering quickly.

Late one morning, as Elizabeth was swabbing the deck, the sun began to be too much for her—her wounds were stinging like mad—so she called to a fellow who wasn't occupied. It was Cooper, the last of the men impressed from the first merchant ship to have survived.

"Oi, Mr. Cooper. Finish this for me, won't you?"

He didn't respond.

"Did you hear me?"

"Go to hell," he said with a scowl.

"I beg your pardon!"

"It's bad enough takin' orders from the likes of pirates, but here I draw the line. I won't be ordered around by some pirate floosy."

By the end of his last sentence, he had begun to step rather aggressively towards her. She slapped him.

"You forget your place, sir. _I_ am first mate, and talk like that will only get you thrown in the brig." She thrust the mop into his hands and pointed to the deck. "Swab," she commanded.

He threw the mop aside and stepped menacingly forward. "It's about time someone reminded you of _your_ place, woman."

Elizabeth was about to draw her sword, but suddenly Cooper froze in his tracks. He could feel the tip of Barbossa's pistol pressed against the back of his head.

"Don't shoot," the man begged, raising his hands.

"Turn around," said Barbossa, his voice deathly calm.

Slowly, Cooper turned to face the captain. Barbossa clubbed him in the jaw with the gun, and when he didn't fall, Barbossa kicked him hard in the stomach and sent him sprawling onto his back. As a final show of dominance, the captain stepped easily over to him before he could get up, and planted a foot squarely on the man's chest. Jack the monkey hopped onto his master's shoulder just then and looked down at Cooper as well. Some of the crew began to gather around.

"Mr. Cooper," said the captain, "Yer a right unpleasant fellow, to be sure, but today yeh've proved yerself… _intolerably_ stupid."

A few men laughed.

"A sorry bunch of dogs, the lot of you," cried Cooper indignantly, "What kind of man takes orders from a woman?"

"She ain't no woman to you, sailor. She be an _officer_. Are yeh too feeble-minded to know the difference?"

"She obviously bought the position, with the use of her feminine wiles. Do you deny it, Captain? I'm sure I'm not the only man here who thinks so."

"Is that a fact?" Barbossa replied with a smirk. Suddenly, he reached down and grabbed the man by the collar, hoisting him to his feet, and then hoisting him right over the side of the ship. There was a resounding splash, and all eyes turned to Barbossa. "So tell me, how many of yeh feel inclined to agree with Mr. Cooper?"

All eyes suddenly turned away from Barbossa, and everyone backed up a little bit.

"I didn't think so. As yeh were, yeh miserable scallywags!"

The crew scattered, each returning to his station. Only Elizabeth remained where she stood. Barbossa turned to her.

"Thanks, but I had it," she said, looking rather like her thunder had been stolen.

"Doubtless yeh did, lass," he replied with a slight chuckle, "But what sort o' cap'n stands by when a crewman turns mutinous?"

She didn't respond.

"Yer welcome, missy." He smiled when she stormed past him in a huff.

* * *

The _Black_ _Pearl_ put in to Tortuga only days later. Each of the crew had a bit of walking-around money, as well as stolen goods to barter and sell. Fun times were ahead.

"We stay here for six days," Barbossa addressed them all, "Go where yeh like. Do as yeh please. Only be back aboard this ship on day seven, or yeh'll be left behind. Now go on!"

The men cheered and wasted no time whatsoever in leaving. Barbossa followed at a much more leisurely pace. Elizabeth was only just emerging from her quarters.

"First mate," he called, "Goin' ashore?"

"Aye," she called back, shielding her eyes from the sun.

"Come on then."

Jack the monkey chittered and tilted his head.

Elizabeth caught up with him and they walked side by side up the dock.

"Every time I've been to Tortuga," she said, "I've run into Jack Sparrow and ended up sailing the high seas on some terrible adventure."

"I take it then that yeh've never visited the place just for the fun of it."

She smiled. "No, I can't say that I have. But I'm not much of a gambler, or a drinker."

He gave her a look.

"I only drink socially, thank you very much."

"Ah, well I think yeh'll find that most anyone here would be willin' to take a sociable drink."

"And what about you? What will you do here? Find yourself an agreeable wench or two perhaps?"

"Hmm, maybe…maybe not. I don't care to make up me mind too far in advance when it comes to me leisure. What about yerself?"

"Well any wench, agreeable or not, is hardly appealing to me, Barbossa," she said teasingly.

His look became mischievous. "There are men here, too, yeh know."

She stopped walking and looked at him, aghast. "I'm a married woman!"

"I know that well enough. I'm the one who officiated, if yeh'll recall."

"To suggest that I commit adultery hardly speaks well of your honor, Captain."

They resumed walking.

"One day out of every ten years. That's how it goes, isn't it? Seems a waste o' youth and beauty to be waitin' around for a man yeh'll only see six more times, if yer lucky."

"It's a good thing it's no concern of yours."

"Aye. I daresay yer right, and believe me, I won't be losin' any sleep over it. But take a bit of advice from a man o' more experience. We each have but one life to live. Seems prudent to take what happiness we can before we've gone and breathed our last. Second chances seldom come along, though I be the exception to that rule."

"…Your advice is sound enough, Captain, but I fail to see how faithlessness could bring me any sort of happiness."

"As previously stated, missy, it be yer problem, not mine. Off with yeh now, and buy yerself somethin' nice. And try not to get yer head blown off while yer at it."

They parted ways amid the chaos of Tortuga.


	6. Chapter 6

**Waste Not**

 **Chapter 6**

After a full and enjoyable day of leisure and debauchery, Captain Barbossa returned to the _Pearl_ for the night. He did not expect many crewmen to return to the ship, so he figured that he was in for a peaceful evening. Therefore, he was somewhat taken aback to find Elizabeth—or practically run right into her—in his room.

"Oh, Barbossa," she said, standing unsteadily, "I was just going to look for you. Why exactly have you moved all your things into _my_ room?"

Barbossa half-smiled incredulously. "Yeh be in my room, lass. Yer at the wrong end o' the deck."

"Oh. Well, my sincerest apologies, Captain." She sauntered up to him, but tripped slightly. He caught her. "I'm truly honored to be standing in your abode."

"Yer blasted is what yeh are." She reeked of alcohol.

"I wouldn't want to invade your privacy."

He looked around. She'd made somewhat of a mess.

"What were yeh doin'?"

"Going through your things," she replied, pulling away. She opened a drawer and pulled out a book. "For instance…I didn't know you were a God-fearing man, Barbossa."

The Bible she now held was worn and well-used, hardly a common possession among pirates.

"A man's got to have somethin' with which to practice his reading, not that I be owin' explanation to the like o' you."

"Afraid I'll think you're a respectable gentleman?"

"I be nothin' if not a gentleman at all times, missy, and yeh know that well enough," he answered good-naturedly.

Elizabeth somewhat clumsily sat cross-legged on his table, and then rested her chin in her hands and looked at him. "A gentleman. Well, I know it well enough, I suppose. You're such an interesting fellow, Barbossa, you really are."

Barbossa couldn't help but become a little curious at this point, and he pulled up a chair. "Well pray tell, Elizabeth. Tell me why I be so interestin' exactly." What drunken truths was she about to tell?

"You're a self-made man. A rogue gentleman of the sea. Knowledgeable and experienced in all things. Very tough and very scary. You're a very efficient pirate…And yet…you are so nice, and so caring—somewhere underneath all that pirate-ness. You're sort of like a father to your crew. Though perhaps a very stern, dangerous father."

"I think I'd rather not be father to a ship-full of bilge rats, nor to a young brat like yerself."

"Oh, but I hardly see you as a father, Captain Barbossa. My own father was nothing at all like you." She looked sad for a moment at the recollection of her father, but pushed the thought back. "…Of course, you have proven to be very wise and give good advice."

"Have I now?"

"Yes." Suddenly, she looked very serious again, and even more suddenly her eyes began to glisten with tears. "You're right about everything. Everything you said before was true. I'm wasting my life."

He rolled his eyes as she sobbed. This had turned uncomfortable all too quickly. He stood and took her by the shoulders. "Elizabeth, yeh be too young to fret over wastin' time. Yer whole life's ahead of yeh."

"And I'm doomed to spend it alone. I'll get maybe five or six days with Will, and that's it. I may never have children. I've got no one to love and hold close, and I'm…I'm miserable," she wept, leaning naturally towards him.

Barbossa rolled his eyes again and sighed. "Come on," he said, and pulled her off the table, guiding her onto his lap as he sat back down. She didn't protest, only nuzzled into his chest and continued to cry.

This was definitely not appropriate behavior between a captain and first mate, but Elizabeth was too drunk to care, and Barbossa didn't care one way or another. She was a woman. One who was fiery and beautiful besides, and he had always been fond of her anyway. He wasn't afraid of where something like this might lead.

Eventually, her sobbing lessened and then stopped altogether, her drunken mind turning elsewhere. "Sincerest apologies again," she sniffled, "I've got to be the most emotionally handicapped crewman you've ever had."

"Yer not botherin' me," he replied, slipping his fingers softly through her hair.

Her focus drifted to him, and she somewhat absently fingered the token he wore around his neck. After a moment or two, her fingers wandered to the large earring he wore, and eventually down to the ring on his right hand.

"I never thought about it before," she said finally, "but you wear a lot of jewelry."

He chuckled. "Aye, but t'isn't such an outlandish thing among pirates these days."

"Where did this come from?" She touched the earring again.

"From a lion, years ago 'round South Africa."

"Did you kill the lion yourself?"

"Nay, but wearin' his tooth tends to give people that impression."

She leaned her head against his chest again, and said rather drowsily, "You're very showoffish, Captain Barbossa. Certainly one of the most…" She yawned. "…one of the most flamboyant men I've ever known." And just like that she was asleep.

Barbossa took his time. Before getting up and carrying her to bed, he held her for a little while longer, taking pleasure in the smell of her hair and the softness of her face. Simple things like that meant a great deal to him after having spent so many years unable to feel.

Finally, he stood, maintaining a firm hold on her, and took her to his own bed. With almost tender care, he tucked her in and blew out the surrounding candles before finding a bed for himself elsewhere.


	7. Chapter 7

**Waste Not**

 **Chapter 7**

Elizabeth woke the following morning with a hangover of elephantine proportions. Her head pounded, her stomach was sour, and the light coming gently through the windows made opening her eyes the most painful thing she'd done in years. But all of this she had somewhat expected in the back of her mind. It was a complete and utter shock, however, to find herself in the captain's room. She bolted upright, which she regretted immediately, but after her head stopped spinning, she surveyed the situation. Yes, this was indeed Barbossa's cabin…and Barbossa's bed.

What did she remember about last night? Almost nothing.

Don't panic, she told herself. Barbossa wasn't anywhere to be seen, thank God. She still had her clothes on, thank the sweet Lord above. Maybe she had just…passed out in here? In any case, she figured she'd better clear out fast.

As quick as she could put her boots on, she was out the door, and cursing the sun for being so bright. She swooned for a moment and had to sit down just outside the door, the world spinning around her. She heard a pair of boots stride towards her, and sensed that she was suddenly in the shade. She tilted her head up and peeked through her fingers, only to see Barbossa smiling down at her, his big hat blocking the sun. Elizabeth covered her face again. Why did this have to happen to her?

"Mornin', lass. Sleep well?"

She looked up at him again, but only gave a look of discomfort in response.

"I should think yeh slept like the dead, with the amount of liquor yeh took in."

She grimaced. "I suppose so", she said, "…Did _you_ sleep well, Captain?"

"I can't say that I did, missy. But I ain't complainin'." The look he gave her could only be described as devious.

He laughed out loud when her eyes widened. She looked bewildered and horrified, and it was hilarious.

"Come on", he said, grabbing her arm and easing her to her feet, "Yeh'll be in need o' somethin' to eat."

He'd had his cook set out a brunch table on deck, and he guided Elizabeth into one of the chairs. Soon, the cook brought out the food—a rather large meal of eggs and cold meat (and an apple) for Barbossa, and for Elizabeth, burnt toast and a pot of black coffee.

The mere sight of the food sent Elizabeth running to the side of the ship and hurling her guts out. Barbossa only shrugged and started in on his eggs, though he couldn't wipe the look of amusement from his face.

At length, she returned to her chair and put her face in her hands, her elbows propped on the table.

"Not quite mastered the art of drinkin', have yeh, missy?"

"Barbossa…" She looked around and lowered her voice. "What happened last night?"

He did his best to hold back his laughter. "Why…yeh don't remember? Ah, well it was somethin' else, I'll tell yeh that much. Yeh cried a lot, but truly still I enjoyed meself greatly."

Elizabeth looked down at the table. "Oh God, what have I done?" she muttered.

Barbossa continued eating—and smiling.

"And what are you so smug about?" she snapped, "Taking advantage of an intoxicated, _married_ woman. I expected better of you, Barbossa."

"Who said I took any advantage?"

"But you…I…well didn't you?"

"Suppose yeh took advantage o' me?"

"That's preposterous!" she yelled, and then flinched as her headache flared at the noise. She lowered her voice again. "I possess neither the strength nor the _motivation_ to do such a thing."

"'Twas ye who came to my room last night, missy. Yeh were there already when I arrived."

"Well I can assure you I wasn't looking for any funny business." She looked crestfallen.

He laughed again. "Chin up, lass. Yer virtue remains intact." She looked at him and he raised his hand innocently. "On me honor…Believe me, Elizabeth. Yeh'd know it if yeh'd spent the night with me." He winked.

Satisfied with the scandalized look on her face, he leaned back, propped his feet up on the table, and bit into his apple.

"You're a dirty, vulgar… _pirate_ _scallywag_!"

"By the powers, yer right. Only the dirtiest, most vulgar of pirate scallywags would take a lady unsteady with drink, and hold her as she cried, and put her to bed in the safest room on or near Tortuga, and give her a proper breakfast, all without takin' any liberties for hisself. Indeed I be a low man."

She still looked annoyed, but somewhat humbled now. "…You call this a proper breakfast?"

"In yer condition, aye. I knew yeh'd be frightful hungover."

She took an apologetic bite of toast. "Thanks."

"Just don't yeh forget how well off yeh are with me."

"I doubt you'd ever let me forget."


	8. Chapter 8

**Waste Not**

 **Chapter 8**

Some of the crew gathered on the beach that night and built a large fire, around which they intended to sing and drink and perhaps charm a few wenches. Feeling better than she had that morning, and making a small attempt to avoid the captain, Elizabeth joined them—though she heartily refused what drinks were offered. A few of the group began to sing "A Pirate Bride," and she listened good-naturedly, leaning against a palm tree.

Barbossa approached from behind her and leaned his shoulder against the same tree. Elizabeth rolled her eyes slightly, but didn't move away. Neither spoke until the song was over.

"Apple?" he asked finally, producing a shiny green apple from his pocket.

"No, thank you."

"'Tisn't poisoned, if that's what yer thinkin'".

She couldn't help but smile a little at his allusion to his kidnapping her years ago, and she went ahead and took the fruit he offered. A tiny stream of juice escaped down her chin as she bit into it. She wiped it away with her sleeve.

"It's a beautiful night" she commented after a moment, not knowing what else to say.

"Aye" he replied, "That it is." He looked around him, taking in the landscape, until his eyes came to rest on her.

"What?" she asked, noticing how his eyes lingered on her overlong.

"I'm curious, regardin' last night…"

At this subject, Elizabeth flinched and gave him a threatening look. He smiled and ignored it.

"…What would yeh have done if we had in fact indulged in each other's company?" He loved the way her mouth dropped open when he offended her sensibilities.

"Then, as king, I would have you walk the plank" she spat, "And then I would walk the plank myself."

"And yeh say I be dramatic."

"You like to laugh about it, I know. But what you are suggesting is betrayal of the worst sort." She took another unhappy nibble of the apple.

"…I'm not a treacherous man at heart." He smiled to himself mildly. "Jack Sparrow was hardly more than a lad when he cap'ned the _Pearl_ and took me on as first mate. And he made a fair cap'n, I'll give him that…Regardless, 'tweren't in me nature to serve under a man o' lesser skill and experience. By then, I'd already had a taste o' leadership as cap'n o' the _Cobra_ , before she sank. 'Tis an evil thing, mutiny, but I did it for me own sake, and I'm the happier for it."

"I understand what you're trying to say, Barbossa, but my mind's made up. I'm going to remain faithful to my husband."

"Yer a pirate, missy, livin' among pirates. Rules are more like guidelines for the likes of us. Find yerself a loophole and live for yer own happiness. Yeh told me yerself, yer miserable as yeh are."

"I..." She didn't have a rebuttal, but she met his eyes and scowled at him. She then handed the half-eaten apple back to him and stormed off.

He watched her go and smiled, then took a bite of the apple himself.

* * *

"Prepare to make way! All sails to Singapore!"

Their time in Tortuga was up, and they now had a long voyage ahead of them. Elizabeth was happy to get back out to sea again, but she was also vaguely anxious about what the following months would bring. It had been a long time since she had been an active captain of the South China Seas, and it had only been for a very brief amount of time. No doubt some other pirate had long since gained dominance over the territory that was—via technicality—hers, and she wondered whether her title as Pirate Lord, or even as King, would make any difference.

One calm evening, just as the first stars began to shine through the dusk and all became quiet on deck, Elizabeth decided to voice her concerns to the captain. She approached him at the helm.

"Captain…regarding our present course, aren't you concerned about the risk?"

"To which risk are yeh referrin', lass?"

"Well, the other pirates. Those who were once under Sao Feng."

"They be under ye now, don't forget."

"Yes, but that was years ago. No doubt they follow someone else now. Likely a big, fearsome Oriental with lots of scars and big swords." She glared at the railing.

"And yeh figure they won't heed a little English spitfire like yerself, is that it?"

"That's one way of putting it, I suppose."

"Well, yeh likely be correct."

"Then what are we doing? Isn't it awfully dangerous to go where we're going?"

"It be dangerous enough. But do yeh have no interest in claimin' a bit o' what's yers?"

She shrugged. "Not particularly. Not in this case."

Barbossa raised his eyebrows and looked forward again. Elizabeth looked at him and suddenly realized something.

"But you do, don't you?" she said, "You're going to try to expand your own territory… using me."

"Why, yeh look at me as if I've suggested somethin' indecent."

"I suppose I should admire your ambition?"

"Aye. That yeh should, missy."

"Not content as Pirate Lord of the Caribbean. You'd like to—"

Barbossa laughed. "I'm Pirate Lord o' the Caspian Sea, lass. Jack Sparrow be the master o' the Caribbean." He laughed again. "But I'm right flattered that yeh thought me such."

"So…you overran Jack's territory, and now you're moving in on mine."

"That be one way o' puttin' it, I suppose."

"Why aren't you domineering over the Caspian where you belong?"

"The Caspian's landlocked. Hardly efficient for expandin' one's territory."

"Hmm. Next you'll tell me that you mean to conquer all seven seas."

Barbossa smiled, and there was a glint in his eye. "Could be the name Barbossa is feared the world over before I'm through."


	9. Chapter 9

**Waste Not**

 **Chapter 9**

A month into the journey and they were only just a quarter of the way there. Several on board had made this trip at least once before, but that didn't make it any shorter, and there were a few who were apt to get restless. Barbossa kept discipline pretty tight; everyone knew better than to start brawling or disrupting the peace, and it was very clear that the first mate was not to be molested. Nevertheless, Elizabeth did her best to remain near the captain or those of the crew she knew best and trusted most. She had no trouble sensing the less than honorable desires of the surrounding pirates.

However, it was not always the best alternative to linger near Barbossa. He was certainly friendly enough—unless he was fighting or giving orders. Indeed, he had quickly become a very dear friend, possibly one of the best she'd ever had. But so often he would make her uncomfortable. In fact, it seemed to greatly amuse him to do so. The teasing itself was no big deal. She might have even enjoyed it if it didn't remind her that she was not free.

Elizabeth found herself gazing at sunsets again. Three years ago, she'd have never imagined that she would long desperately to see the _Flying Dutchman_. She often found herself wishing that Will would abandon his duties in the land of the dead and come to her, the price be damned. Or perhaps she could try to get to him…

It was sunset, and Barbossa came above-board only to see his first mate sitting on the railing, her feet dangling over the water. He got a bad feeling about it and strode up behind her. She didn't seem to notice him, and began to lean out over the sea. Barbossa acted upon his instincts and yanked her back by the collar. Elizabeth landed hard on her back on the deck, looking as though she'd been snapped out of a trance.

"I once had a cabin boy naught but eight years old" Barbossa said, standing over her, "but even _he_ had the sense not to topple hisself overboard."

"I…I wasn't jumping. I was only leaning—"

"Elizabeth, I'll expect yeh not to try and take me for a fool."

She might have been somewhat put out with him, but his look caught her off guard. Normally, it was smug and ever-confident, but presently it was agitated and concerned. He was worried for her. And suddenly, she felt ashamed.

"…It won't happen again" she said, abashed.

He looked at her for a few seconds, but then offered her his hand. She took it and he hoisted her to her feet.

* * *

Dinner that evening was sufficiently awkward. Elizabeth didn't talk much. What could she say? ' _Thanks for stopping the stupidest spontaneous suicide attempt in the history of the_ _world'_?

Barbossa had meant to leave her be concerning this depression she'd gotten herself into, but the time for him to intervene was obviously at hand. He couldn't very well afford to have his first mate randomly jumping ship.

"So" he began, topping off his glass of wine, "Yeh've reached the point o' desperation at last."

"I beg your pardon" she replied snappishly.

"Yer beginnin' to think that dyin' at sea and floatin' yer soul on down to yer lover may not be a bad idea."

Her eyes widened. He had just put into words what she had never dared admit to herself, but he was right.

She stabbed her fork almost angrily into a chunk of potato. "You mustn't think me weak for that moment of weakness before. I'm living in my own corner of hell."

"Oh, aye. And I understand it well enough. But yeh'll forgive me if I don't sympathize. It be yer own doin' what's brought yeh this low."

"My husband will return in less than eight years, and if I were to follow _your_ advice, he would come home to a harlot."

"He'll come back, aye, for a day. And then it's back to sea for ten more years. I'm not sure that should even count as a marriage."

"I made my vows. I swore myself to him. For eternity."

Barbossa sighed. "Yeh'd do well to listen to yer elder for once. I've lived and I've died, and I've done most everythin' in between. Give yerself room to breathe in this arrangement, or yeh'll be dead come next year."

"I see no breathing room to be had."

There was a moment of pause.

"…I once sailed under a cap'n who had two wives—one a German and the other a black—and he like 'em both so well, he kept 'em aboard. Now those two wenches hated one another; kept tryin' to kill each other, in fact. But they both had a fierce love for the cap'n. Never seen a stranger love since, but all three were happy in their own way."

"Are you…suggesting that I take a second husband?" She looked as though the idea thoroughly weirded her out.

"It's likely enough that stranger things have occurred."

"It certainly wouldn't be legal."

He rolled his eyes at that. "We neither of us be too concerned with legality, Elizabeth. If the King o' the Brethren Court can't take more than a single spouse, who can?"

"…Barbossa, I have to think of Will. He would feel so betrayed if I didn't take our marriage seriously."

"Turner be set to spend eternity on the _Dutchman_. Two or three more trips to shore and he'll be returnin' to an old maid. It's right admirable of yeh to think of him, but I daresay he shouldn't hold yeh to wastin' yer life."

"Why should you care whether I waste my life or not?"

"I'll not be havin' a suicidal first mate, for one thing."

"I told you, it won't happen again."

"And it had better not. I never took yeh for an idiot. Yer a survivor. Yeh do whatever it takes. Yer much like meself in that respect."

She smiled slightly. "Should I take that as a compliment or an insult?"

He smiled in return. There was a bit of that spark he was so fond of. "Take it as yeh like it, missy, though I should think it a compliment meself."

The atmosphere between them having eased, they spent the next few minutes simply eating in companionable silence. Barbossa was the first to speak again.

"…But it be a fine enough idea, don't yeh think?"

She furrowed her brow. "What?"

"A second husband. Think on it. 'Twould solve all yer problems. Yeh be too steadfast for a string o' lovers, but just one man to keep yeh company through the decades, why, 'tis the perfect solution. I be rather pleased with meself for comin' up with it."

"I…I wouldn't even know how to be with another man. I've had my eye on Will ever since we were children…Even if I were interested, I doubt I could manage it. And who would I marry anyway? A pirate?" She gave a short, nervous laugh and picked up her glass.

"Nay, yeh be too decent a prize for a mere pirate…Yeh be needin' a captain."

Elizabeth choked on her drink. "…What are you implying exactly?"

"Well I'll be frank as a show o' sincerity in the matter. If yeh be in the market again, I hereby submit me name for candidacy. Hector Barbossa, Cap'n o' the _Black Pearl_ , Pirate Lord o' the Caspian Sea. Would yeh like to write it down?"

For several seconds, she only gaped at him in shock. "…You want…I…I'm not having this conversation." She took up her wine, knocked back what was left of it, and exited the room without another word.


	10. Chapter 10

**Waste Not**

 **Chapter 10**

Elizabeth did her best to avoid the captain from that day on. She stopped eating dinner with him altogether, and whenever her duties didn't demand otherwise, she tried to keep as far a distance from him as possible—though really the ship seemed too small.

For a day or two, Barbossa just thought it was rather funny. Every time she saw him, her eyes would widen and she would scamper away like a flighty seagull. She was completely freaked out, and he enjoyed that to a certain extent. But after nearly a fortnight had passed, the fun had long since dried up, and now it was only irritating. And it was not going to continue.

One somewhat cloudy morning, he sent for her. She had little choice but to report to him at the helm.

"You called for me, Captain?" she said stiffly.

"Aye. Just wanted to let yeh know, yeh'll be dinin' with me tonight." He didn't let her protest. "The crew's no doubt beginnin' to wonder why the first mate and the cap'n ain't gettin' along, and no good can come from that."

She lowered her voice. "Barbossa, I don't see how any good will come of our dining together either. After all, I—"

"That be an order, missy."

"I'm your King. I may very well do as I please."

He turned fully to face her now and drew himself up to his full height, looking down at her. "Yeh may outrank me in a meetin' o' the Court, but I be the cap'n and the master o' this ship, and I'd have yeh lashed to the prow before takin' any insubordinate talk from the likes o' you." As he spoke, he got up in her personal space, forcing her to take small steps back.

She understood clearly enough. Barbossa was more than willing to take action in order to defend his position, and whatever affection he held for her would not stop him from enacting discipline.

"Aye" she muttered, and left him.

* * *

It perhaps would have been a wise choice to simply have dinner with him, as ordered, but when the time came, Elizabeth couldn't bring herself to go. Maybe it was her pride, or maybe she just needed to test his boundaries and see what she could get away with, but in any case, she did not join Barbossa for dinner.

She was actually just about to doze off in her room when a loud knock startled her.

"Are you decent in there, poppet? You're needed on deck" she heard Pintel say.

"Just a minute" she called back.

When she opened the door, Pintel and Ragetti were there, and several other crewmen were standing about the deck, watching.

"What's going on?"

"You'll have to come with us, nice and quiet-like."

"Where?"

Ragetti chimed in. "To the brig. Captain's orders."

"Go away." She tried to close her door, but Pintel kept it forced open.

"Cap'n says you'll be spendin' the night in the brig. And we're to drag you there kickin' and screamin' if need be."

She glared at them, but finally rolled her eyes and went quietly, cursing Barbossa as she went.

The brig was never a fun place to end up, but at least the one on the _Pearl_ was rather less creepy than the one she had experienced on the _Dutchman_. It wasn't the worst punishment ever, but it sent a strong enough message. Captain's orders were meant to be followed, even if they only involved dinner.

For several hours and well into the night, she sat on the floor and leaned against the side of the ship, listening to the ocean as it slapped against the hull. It was relatively peaceful, but not comfortable enough for sleep. She would just have to wait for the dawn.

Awhile before dawn, however, something caused her to stir. She heard a pair of boots come down the steps, and then the unmistakable voice of the captain.

"Clear out" he said to the night guard.

The sound of the boots then approached her cell, as did the light of a lantern, which shone on the face of Barbossa, absent his monkey.

"Have we learned our lesson?" he asked patronizingly.

Elizabeth didn't bother to stand up. In response, she only crossed her arms and glared.

"Tsk. Yer still such a child."

Suddenly, she became furious. Leaping to her feet, she strode over to him and sneered through the bars. "And you're an old man. So let's consider it square and leave me in peace."

The key clicked in her lock and Barbossa flung the door open. She _almost_ got nervous then. She hadn't realized he had the key. Before she could react, however, the keys were tossed aside and he grabbed her shirt collar in his right hand, shoving her further into her cell and against the bars, pinning her there at arm's length.

"True I be a gentleman o' more years and experience, and by rights I'm a patient man, but I'm not so worn out as to be takin' lip from one as scrawny as yerself."

She grasped at his wrist, but his grip was like iron. When she struggled, he pulled her back from the bars slightly and then shoved her into them again.

"Now explain to me why I found meself dinin' alone once again, and make it good."

"I'm sorry, Captain, but I simply don't have an answer for you," she said as she glared.

"Aye. And why doesn't that surprise me? Yer even more chicken-hearted than I had yeh figured for."

"Chicken-h—now what on earth gave you that impression?" she asked, truly offended.

"A man makes yeh a simple offer, and yeh treat him like the plague. Man up and talk things out, or give him a yes or no at least. I thought that governor's daughters were taught manners."

She did her best to stop scowling and make her face neutral. "Fine. Release me and we'll talk, lady to gentleman."

"We'll talk, indeed, but I'll be releasin' yeh when I see fit, and not before. Now I'll start the conversation. Elizabeth…"

"Hector" she acknowledged.

"Are yeh or are yeh not willin' to consider me offer?"

"Hardly," she scoffed.

"So yeh be determined to remain in misery."

"Maybe I am."

"…It fails to escape me notice that I've not heard an outright _no_." His grip loosened, and he stepped a little closer. "Is that why yeh've been avoidin' me? Afraid yeh'll say _yes_?"

"And what makes you think I'd choose _you_ , even if I took another man into my life?"

"I have a great deal to offer. Yeh want fine things? The command and respect o' pirates the world over? A life of adventure? Say what yeh desire and yeh'll have it."

"I could likely get all that on my own, Captain Barbossa" she replied smugly.

He smirked. "Aye. Ye be after somethin' more. Someone to be close to…" He got very close and spoke softly. "Someone who'll stand alongside yeh in the day, and keep yeh warm in the night…" He let go of her collar and his fingers drifted gently up her neck. "A man yeh can depend on." He could feel her pulse racing as he whispered in her ear, "I can be that man."

She felt all but helpless as he spoke, his body so close to hers, his words bringing things to the surface that she had either buried or been ignorant of. Something flared up inside, and it left her breathless. Ever so naturally, her own body softly conformed as he pressed closer. She closed her eyes.

"Elizabeth" he said softly.

She thought of Will then and her eyes shot open. She flinched away from Barbossa's touch and pushed his hand back.

"It's Mrs. Turner" she said coldly.

His hand took hold of her collar again, and again she was shoved hard against the metal bars behind her.

"I care not what yeh call yerself, be it Swann, Turner, or Barbossa. Take care that yeh hear me well, 'cause I've said this only twice in me life, and I shan't be repeatin' it often, but I love you, Elizabeth, and fates be damned, I won't take any more o' yer sass."

He yanked her close, wrapped her tightly in his arms, and kissed her hard. She fought a little, but not much, not enough to make any difference. On both ends, the kiss was almost desperate, but it eventually slowed down, and he pulled apart from her at last.

She couldn't think. She could hardly breathe. She felt thrilled and guilty and altogether numb. In that moment, she was sure of nothing.

"Think on it" he said. He then stepped away and locked her back in, leaving her to await the dawn.


	11. Chapter 11

**Waste Not**

 **Chapter 11**

The following day was an absolute daze for Elizabeth. She did her work, same as always, but in utter absentmindedness. Her thoughts were reeling; she'd never in her life been so confused. Barbossa—he had professed love for her. He had kissed her—and she had let him. She told herself that she had simply been too shocked to fight it—that was certainly a partial truth—but deep down, in a dark and repressed corner of her soul, she knew that he had stirred something in her, something exciting and extremely frightening.

"I expect yeh've learned yer lesson and yeh'll be joinin' me for dinner like a proper first mate again" he said behind her.

His sudden presence startled her and she turned around, wide-eyed, blushing mildly. She had been thinking about him for hours, and now she felt flustered at the mere sight of him. However, he addressed her as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. After a few seconds of staring, and no answer, he waved his hand in front of her face.

She snapped out of it and looked away. "I suppose I'll be locked in the brig again if I refuse."

"Aye, yeh catch on quick, missy. And besides, we be havin' a great deal to discuss" he said with a smirk.

* * *

They'd had dinners in the past that had been awkward, but this was the first time Elizabeth wanted to just crawl under the table and die. She could barely bring herself to eat the fish dinner in front of her—though she freely indulged in the wine.

Barbossa, however, was just as cool and collected as ever. If there was any anxiety in his heart, he did not show it, holding himself with confidence as always. Elizabeth could not detect his nervousness.

"'Twas good of yeh to actually join me this time" he began.

"It's rather difficult to decline a _mandatory_ invitation from one such as yourself."

He smiled at her defiant tone and leaned back in his chair. "So, shall we get right to business, or shall we fritter away a few moments with polite and idle banter?"

She took another gulp of wine. "…Let's just have out with the business."

"Couldn't agree more. So here we are, and the question remains: will yeh or will yeh not?"

She hesitated. "…I can't. I can't do this; it's not right. This isn't supposed to happen. Don't you understand?"

"Aye, that I do. A perfectly respectable sentiment, that. But the look on yer face betrays a lack of indifference to the idea."

She looked away.

"I was honest with yeh last night…"

Her eyes snapped back up to meet his.

"Tonight I suggest yeh be honest with yerself and me alike."

"…Last night…for a brief moment, I…it was the best I'd felt since Will left. I'll admit that much…But how can I feel that way when I know it's so wrong?"

"Yer not content with the fate yeh been handed. I see little wrong with that."

"But how would you feel if you were in Will's place?"

"I wouldn't hold anyone to such a promise were I the _Dutchman_ 's cap'n."

Elizabeth ran her hand over her face. She was in way over her head. "Alright, let's discuss this hypothetically. _Only_ hypothetically…If I said 'yes', what would happen?"

"Yeh'd begin sleepin' in me cabin as soon as may be." He smirked at her scandalized look. "Though I be true to me word and I'll marry yeh beforehand if yeh choose."

"You do realize that marrying me will mean no more floozies at port, or other such rubbish? Are you truly prepared to take on monogamy?"

"Never been over fond o' dockwalkers to begin with. If that be yer attempt at scarin' me off, yeh'll have to come up with better than that."

"Will it not be awkward…with the crew around?"

"They'll be careful to mind their places if they value their skins, but I can't say they worry me. Nay, a captain does as he sees fit, as does a first mate, and it be no concern o' theirs."

"But everything else aside, how could I ever face Will again?"

"Yeh have more than seven years to figure that out. In the meantime, yeh'll be livin' for yerself, and don't be surprised if yeh find that gives yeh peace about the situation."

She stared at her food, not knowing what to say. The conversation paused as he watched her. Jack the monkey watched them both from his special perch, which hung from the ceiling. The silence lasted only a moment, but it felt like half an eternity.

It was finally broken by Barbossa as he pushed his chair back from the table. "Come here" he said, beckoning her over.

She looked confused, but stood and took a couple steps towards him.

He gave half a chuckle and offered her his hand. "Don't pretend yerself shy, missy. 'Tis not the first, nor even the second time yeh've come close to me."

She took his hand tentatively and was pulled suddenly into his lap. Immediately, she tried to stand up again, but he held her fast.

"Be still now. _Be still_. It be clear enough already that I've sparked yer interest and I've had about enough o' yer denyin' it."

"…It would amount to nothing more than a moment of weakness, to getting caught up in the moment because I'm lonely and sad. The spark between us is bound to go out all too soon. Even now it's fading. You could kiss me and likely neither of us would feel a thing."

There was a brief, tense pause. Then all of a sudden his hand was at the back of her head, holding her in place as he pressed his lips to hers. She stiffened at first, but it didn't take long for her to relax in his embrace, and soon she even placed her hand lightly on his chest. He took it in his own hand and squeezed it as he continued the kiss, and he did not let it go when the kiss ended. They looked at one another then, and it was not long before Barbossa leaned in to kiss her again.

Elizabeth pulled away somewhat abruptly, however. "Wait…" said she, "wait, let me try…" Hesitantly, she leaned in herself and kissed him, very gently, her eyes closed, and they remained closed for a few seconds after she pulled away. "See? Nothing…No spark…just…just nothing…"

"Oh aye…aye nothin' at all." Deftly, he unbuttoned the top button on her vest.

Frowning, she pushed his hand away and re-buttoned it. "Now there'll be none of that."

"Ah indeed. I said I'd marry yeh, didn't I? And I see yeh'll be holdin' me to me word…Well stand up, lass. I be willin' and more than ready."

"Wh—Right now?"

"Do yeh wanna fix yer hair first or somethin'?

"…I can't do this. I just can't. This is happening _much_ too quickly."

Barbossa smiled gently and sighed. "Go to yer cabin. Fix yerself up and try not to lose yer head. Come back later in the night and we'll get started." He winked.

Elizabeth stood and backed towards the door, looking panicked to be sure, and left.

* * *

She should have jumped ship, or at least locked herself in her room, but she didn't. She brushed her hair. She washed her face. She tried not to think of Will as she put on a fresh shirt and straightened herself. She felt as if she were walking through a haze, but she understood well enough where she was going. She had tried so hard to think only of Will, but that had brought her pain more than anything else. Maybe Barbossa wasn't the man of her dreams…but she needed someone, and Will was more dream than reality now.

It was dark and the wind blowing off the sea was somewhat cold when she crept silently across the deck. With only some hesitation, she took a deep breath and knocked on Barbossa's door. He opened it quickly, the monkey on his shoulder.

"There'll be no need to be knockin' any longer, Elizabeth. What's mine is yers, as the sayin' goes." He held out his arm and Jack leapt from it and scampered away into the darkness. "Do come in."

She stepped inside and he closed the door behind her. There was a slight pause. She didn't turn to face him, but she could feel him coming closer. And as he neared, she could feel a blush creep hotly to the surface.

"I have a little somethin' for yeh. Picked it up in Tortuga whilst we was there." He held up a pendant, a white crescent moon against a black inlay and beside a single silver star. It hung from his fingers by a gold chain. "A token o' me affection."

"…I haven't got anything for you."

He smiled. "Oh, but yeh have." He stepped behind her and pulled her hair back, hanging the necklace about her neck. "And I be lookin' forward to unwrappin' it," he said in her ear.

She spun around and looked into his eyes. "Those are hardly the words of a gentleman."

"As the night wanes, I imagine yeh'll be sayin' a few things a mite unladylike yerself."

She gaped, her cheeks becoming unbearably hot.

"Shall we begin?" he asked.

"Yes…quickly, before I change my mind."

"Ah, now that be a request I be inclined to acquiesce to." He pulled her close. "Dearly beloved…" He took his hat off and tossed it onto the table. "We be gathered here today…" He began to unbutton her vest. "…to unite these two Pirate Lords in holy matrimony." The vest fell to the floor. "Do you Elizabeth Swann or Turner…" He pulled off her belt and then laid his guns on the table. "…take this man to be yer lawfully wedded husband?"

"…Yes" she said faintly, meeting his eyes.

"And I, Hector Barbossa…" He shrugged off his overcoat. "…take this woman as me lawfully wedded wife. As cap'n o' the _Black Pearl_ , I pronounce the two of us wed, and I may kiss my bride." He pulled her into his arms then and kissed her hard, harder even than the night before, and without further ado, swept her up and carried her to bed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Waste Not**

 **Chapter 12**

Elizabeth woke the following morning to find herself in the captain's room…in the captain's bed. There was no headache, no hangover.

What did she remember about last night? Everything.

Don't panic, she told herself. Barbossa was nowhere to be seen, and that was probably for the best. She still had her clothes—oh God, no she didn't. Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic, she thought, don't let the guilt catch up with you; just get up and carry on. Nothing's wrong—you're essentially on your honeymoon. Let yourself be happy.

She got up and got dressed. Then, finding that a mirror—and some of her other things—had been brought in, she took a look at herself to make certain that she didn't look disheveled. She gaped at the huge hickey on her neck. God above, how was she supposed to walk out on deck like that?!

She counted her blessings when she found a handkerchief—just the thing with which to cover unsightly evidence—and steeled herself for whatever she was about to meet outside. And it was a good thing she did, because everyone on deck stared when she came out. At first, she sort of wanted to just slip right back inside and bolt the door—forever. But then she remembered her place: above all these people. She was first mate. She did as she pleased. She needed to own it.

"As you were!" she shouted to them all.

Everyone got back to work and Elizabeth looked towards the helm. There stood her captain, eating an apple, and looking as pleased and smug as if the whole world were his. She approached him.

"Good morning, Captain Barbossa."

"Afternoon, First Mate Barbossa."

She laughed slightly. "Perhaps we should just call each other by our first names from now on."

"As yeh like. Though I reserve the right to call yeh by yer full and proper name when I please."

She smiled and looked out over the ship. There was a short silence.

"So last night was…last night was fun," she said rather awkwardly.

He smiled and stepped closer to where she stood. "Aye. That be one word for it." He reached over and tugged at her handkerchief.

She smacked his hand away. He smacked hers away in turn and continued to undo the knot around her neck.

"Bear yer bruises with a little pride," he said, pulling the handkerchief off and putting it in his pocket, "'Twas coverin' the necklace anyway."

* * *

The winds remained often in their favor and there was yet to be a ship on the seas that could match the _Pearl_ in speed. They were making excellent time. It was only another month before a particular island came into view. Barbossa had arranged for their course to be altered slightly in order to go there, though he had refused to tell Elizabeth where they were going.

"Is that it?" she asked excitedly.

"Aye, that be it," he replied fondly, stepping closer to her and looking with her towards the shore.

"Well can you tell me now where we are and why we're here?"

"This is Fiji. And we be here because o' you."

"Me?"

"We married on the open sea. There was no proper honeymoonin' destination to be seen, so I set a course for Fiji."

"You've been here before?"

"Aye. It be a fine enough place for lovers such as us."

She smiled and leaned against him, feeling at ease as his hand grasped her shoulder.

When they made port, the crewmen were left to do as they pleased, but Barbossa paid some of the natives for a hut and a hammock on a private beach, as well as a couple bottles of rum. Elizabeth quickly made herself comfortable in the hammock with a bottle, humming a bit to herself.

"Yo ho, yo ho. A pirate's life for me," she sang softly.

* * *

In the temperate warmth of the evening, they walked a ways inland and found a small pool and waterfall. There was a large rock jutting a few yards above the water and they stood together on it, looking at the scene.

"Care for a swim?" Elizabeth asked coyly.

In response, Barbossa suddenly thrust his arm out and shoved her off the rock, sending her screaming into the water.

"You bastard!" she yelled when she resurfaced, sputtering and swimming for land.

Barbossa walked down to meet her as she pulled herself out, sopping wet.

"You'll pay for that, I swear to God." She grabbed at him, but he dodged her and held up his hand.

"I'd rather not soak me clothes if it's all the same to you. But give me a moment and I'd gladly help yeh out o' yers." With a smirk, he took off his hat and removed his outer vestments and his shirt.

To spite him, Elizabeth undressed out of his sight behind a boulder and dove back into the water quickly. It wasn't long though before he had joined her.

"It's refreshing to bathe in fresh water for a change, don't you think?" she asked conversationally, dodging his approach.

"'Tis a fine thing, I suppose, if yeh care to drink yer bathwater," he replied, catching her with little trouble and pulling her close.

"You ought to be keelhauled for pushing me in like that, you know," she said, unable to wiggle free.

"Oh aye. As well as for all the things I'll be doin' in the very near future."

She splashed him in response and managed to slip out of his grasp.

"Elizabeth," he said, wiping his eyes, "I be the better swimmer o' the two of us. I don't know why yeh'd even try."

"Give a girl a chance, Hector. One day, I'm sure I'll best you at something." She ducked to the other side of the waterfall. It distracted her for a moment and she reached up to put her hand in it.

Barbossa almost couldn't contain his laughter when the force of the falling water thrust her hand down onto the rock beneath it. Her face was like that of a curious child who had just gotten burned at the stove. He chuckled a bit as he swam to her. Gently, he took her hand into his own hands and looked at it. The heel of her palm was a little scraped up, but of course it wasn't serious. He submerged it in the cool water to ease the initial pain, and fondly traced the thin scar that he had put across her palm years before.

"Yer alright," he said softly.

"Yes," she replied, touching her hand, and then touching his, "But don't stop."

Speaking affectionately to Barbossa had taken a while to get used to, mostly because it reminded her of the way she had spoken to Will, and that just made her feel guilty. But this sort of thing was exactly why she had grown to care for Barbossa. He was there to play and tease, yes, but he also never failed to take care of her. He was there, always there, in the present moment with her. She would be forever grateful for that.

At her encouragement, he pressed her against the rock at her back and kissed her thoroughly.


	13. Chapter 13

**Waste Not**

 **Chapter 13**

They set sail again a few days later, refreshed and replenished, leaving Fiji behind. About a week out to sea, the water was calm and clear, and all was well. However, Barbossa began to feel a little anxious one fine day, feeling the ocean breeze pick up speed against his face. The wind was favorable and blew mightily in their sails, speeding them along in the right direction, but something did not feel right to the captain.

The day carried on and nothing happened. It remained a fine day and morale was high. But Barbossa ate only a quick dinner and returned to the deck, checking everything over once and then twice. All was well.

Elizabeth joined him at the helm in the dark. "It's late, even for you. Don't you think you ought to get some sleep?"

"Nay. Not tonight."

"What's wrong?"

"The wind ain't right."

"But it's a favorable wind. And there isn't a cloud in the sky."

"The sea be as changeable as a woman's heart. And twice as quick, and three times as merciless…No offense." He gave her a slight smirk.

She left him and went to bed herself.

Less than an hour later, Barbossa looked into the sky and felt the rain begin to splash across his face. He nodded and began to shout orders to the few who remained on deck in the night.

"All hands on deck! Roust the crew! Batten down! All hands!"

The crew began to pour out on deck, rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

"Secure all sails! Batten down, yeh wretched sea-dogs!"

Thunder rolled across the sky, and the sea began to roil beneath the ship. Elizabeth awoke and watched as a chair slid across the room. The storm was going full-blast when she emerged on deck, and she was almost immediately soaked through by the heavy rain. Barbossa was at the helm, and she went to him straight away.

"Orders, Captain!" she yelled over the wind.

"Tie yerself down and pray if yer feelin' religious!"

"Secure lifelines!" she screamed to the crew.

Lightning flashed and a wave came crashing across the deck, sweeping a few pirates off their feet. Barbossa turned the wheel hard to port and realized then that there would be no point in trying to steer. He grabbed Elizabeth by the wrist and left the helm.

"What are you doing?" she shouted, "The course will be lost if you don't—"

"The course is lost! It be a matter now o' losin' the ship!"

Thunder crashed down on them, so hard it felt to Elizabeth as though it rattled her heart in her chest. Barbossa pulled her across the deck and towards the mast, grabbing up a rope as he went. Jack leapt onto his shoulder, chittering anxiously. Suddenly, Elizabeth felt herself thrust against the mast and her husband's body covering her own. With the rope, Barbossa lashed them to the mast, and then he grasped it tightly, standing between Elizabeth and the brunt of the stinging rain.

Another wave crashed across the deck, and lightning lit up the sky like a pale sun. Thunder struck them only seconds later, booming and crackling all around. The sea pitched and tossed them about as if the _Pearl_ was nothing more than a bit of driftwood. The wind blew hard into Elizabeth's face, the rain pelting her skin like bullets. It hurt, but she knew Barbossa was taking the worst of it for her. Many times, she felt sure that the ship would topple onto its side and be swallowed by the ocean.

So I am meant to die at sea, she thought; I'll see Will tonight as he escorts me to the other side…I wonder if he'll know that I betrayed him in life.

* * *

None of the crew perished that night, for the Pearl held fast. When the tempest finally ended and the clouds cleared away, the sun was shining bright above the eastern horizon. But everyone was water-logged and exhausted, and even the captain was more than a little lost.

When they untied themselves from the ship's mast, Barbossa immediately began barking orders. "Assess damage! Bohai! Find out where we are! Shake it off, yeh soppin' bilge rats!"

He then turned to Elizabeth, who was sitting against the mast, soaked and somewhat bewildered. She was wiped out, and she had honestly expected to die. He grabbed her by the arm and helped her to her feet.

"Are we alive?" she asked hoarsely.

"Alive enough, lass."

With a sigh, she threw her arms around him and pressed her face to his chest, hugging him tightly. He was taken aback somewhat, but only for an instant, and returned the embrace, smiling a bit to himself.

"Alive enough to get to work," he said finally, pulling away and turning her around firmly by the shoulders.

 **Hello dear readers :)**

 **And a special hello to FlightoftheStorm777 for being the only one to leave a comment thus far. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it.**

 **I'd like to let you all know that I'd love to see more comments, and of course I'd love it if you followed me.**

 **You can expect a total of 21 chapters for this story, plus an epilogue. Also, I plan on taking requests for any "deleted scenes" you might want to have me write for it. I feel like I pace my stories too fast sometimes, so if you feel it's missing something by the end, tell me and I may write a few bonus chapters. I already have one deleted scene in mind, which I'll put up after the epilogue.**

 **I adore writing Barbossa. I'm having so much fun with this. I hope you're all enjoying it, too.**

 **All my love.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Waste Not**

 **Chapter 14**

After it was made doubly sure that the ship was not about to sink underneath their feet, Barbossa retired to his cabin, and he gave Elizabeth strict orders that he was not to be disturbed. She, therefore, was the one to go over the charts with Bohai that night.

"We are much farther north than we should be," the Chinaman remarked, regarding the stars.

"How much time do you suppose we've lost?" she asked.

"Likely a week or so."

"That long? We're really that far off course?"

Bohai shrugged slightly. "It was a powerful storm. And the _Pearl_ is known for her speed. We just went quickly in the wrong direction."

"Well, see that we set a course in the right direction now. And we'll need to make port sometime soon, don't forget."

"Aye."

* * *

"The captain is not to be disturbed," Elizabeth insisted, planting herself firmly in front of Barbossa's doorway.

"He's been in there for nearly two days," retorted the deckhand, "How do we know he's even still alive?"

"You'll just have to take my word for it."

"I want to see for myself." He took a few steps forward.

Elizabeth pulled her gun on him. "Walk away."

The man chuckled. "All of the powder is wet from the storm. Your gun is useless."

She glanced at her gun, then suddenly she flipped it in her hand and clubbed him in the jaw with the handle. "Useless indeed," she muttered. Holstering the pistol then, she made ready to draw her sword as the man struggled to right himself. Though stunned and knocked to his knees, he still looked aggressive.

His disposition changed somewhat, however, when he saw the captain's doors open and Barbossa step out. The pirate lord addressed his crewman with a smile. "Ah, Mr. Skreever, I thought that was you I heard."

The man moved to stand then, but froze again as the captain spoke.

"Best to stay as yeh are for now, sailor."

Skreever came to rest again on both knees and watched nervously as Barbossa stepped forward. By now, most of the crew was watching.

"I must say I'm rather surprised," the captain said loudly, "considerin' all we've been through together, that there still be such disrespect towards me first mate." He lazily drew his sword and looked over the length of the blade. "We had this trouble before. Ended up with a man dead." He rested the blade on Skreever's shoulder, his demeanor nonchalant, but his message strong and clear. "Would anyone care to tell me why such mutinous moments as these tend to occur?"

Nobody spoke.

"Because I be rather curious. Is it because she's a woman? Is it because she's me wife?"

"Or could it be that some of you are just back-talking, mutinous dogs?" Elizabeth chimed in.

"Aye, now there be a curiosity!" Barbossa continued, "The point bein'…how many men have to wind up dead before yeh learn a bit o' respect?" He ran the sword gently across the man's face as he spoke.

"Mutiny? Never!" Skreever said shakily, "I was only concerned for you, Captain. You have never stayed in your cabin so long."

"I be flattered by yer concern, but I know well enough the symptoms o' bein' hot-blooded and lookin' for trouble, and I've little tolerance for it aboard my ship." He began to raise his sword.

"Don't kill him, Captain," said Elizabeth, "We need all hands to repair the damage."

He sheathed the blade and pointed to his wife. "Look at the face o' the one who just saved yer life, Mr. Skreever, and pay respect." He put his hand heavily on the man's shoulder and leaned down to him. "Talk back to her like that again, and I'll make yeh drink yer own blood."

The man swallowed anxiously. There was a tense pause. The silence was broken by the voice of the lookout.

"Ship, ahoy! Off the starboard bow!"

Barbossa quickly shifted his attention, first to the lookout and then to the sea. Striding to the bow, he pulled out his spyglass. There was indeed a ship in the distance.

"What is it?" asked Elizabeth.

"It's a Chinese junk. We be in Mistress Ching's waters." He turned to the crew. "To battle stations! But hold yer fire! Give nothin' away! All swords at the ready!"

Everyone scrambled. Elizabeth turned to join them, but Barbossa grabbed her arm.

"If it goes badly for us, don't be drawin' attention to yerself," he told her, his eyes serious, "I'm not inclined to be handin' yeh over."

She set her jaw and nodded.


	15. Chapter 15

**Waste Not**

 **Chapter 15**

Though her captain and crew showed no signs of disadvantage, the _Pearl_ was wounded from the storm and in no position to put up a real fight. The Chinese ship was substantially smaller, however, and held a smaller crew—though with superior fire power—so who would win a fight was up in the air. But Barbossa had no intention of fighting, if he could help it.

As the opposing vessel approached on the starboard side, Barbossa ordered his men to stand down, and he called Bohai over to him. Elizabeth stood behind the two of them as the _Pearl_ was boarded.

"Who be the captain among ye?" Barbossa addressed the Chinamen.

Bohai translated.

A rather short, but intimidating man stepped forward. He wore several rings and a long, red dragon was tattooed down the length of each of his arms. On his bald head, he wore the hat of a British naval officer.

"Ask him what he wants," Barbossa said.

Bohai exchanged words with the other pirate captain and replied, "He wants your surrender."

"No. But tell him I'm in the market to make a deal."

More Chinese was exchanged.

"Tell him I'll trade eight barrels o' salt for guidance to Mistress Ching," Barbossa continued, "Make it known that I be a Pirate Lord."

Bohai did as he was told. "He asks why he should waste time helping you when he could just take your salt, and your ship."

"So as not to waste his men," replied the captain, hand on his sword, "'Tis a mutual benefit my way. His way will get several of his men killed."

Bohai translated. The opposing captain didn't look happy, but Barbossa could tell that reason was winning out.

He smiled. "Do we have an accord?"

* * *

"Land ho!" shouted the lookout.

"Bohai," said Elizabeth, "what is this place?"

"Shantou," the chart man replied, "Southeast China."

The _Pearl_ was boarded again and the Chinamen began to collect their salt. The captains approached each other a second time. The shorter of the two spoke, and Barbossa did not care for the man's expression.

"What did he say?" he asked Bohai.

"…He wants Elizabeth."

" _That_ was not part of our bargain."

"He demands it."

"Well he's bein' denied. Tell him she and I both have business with Ching. She be a Pirate Lord as well."

Bohai did so. "He suggests then that you simply loan her to him."

"I'm beginnin' to lose patience. Honor the agreement or fight. I don't much care which at this point."

Upon hearing the translation, the Chinese captain's eyes flared with aggression. He backed off, however, knowing that his men would suffer too much loss in the open conflict. He departed with his men.

"As I recall," stated Elizabeth, standing behind him, "you had no qualms trading me to Sao Feng when the need arose. What makes me so valuable now?" She looked rather smug.

"As I recall, yeh all but volunteered to go with Sao Feng. I simply allowed yeh to make the choice. But these days, I don't part so easy from what's mine."

She smiled slightly and looked towards land. "Do you think Mistress Ching will be pleased to see us?"

"I made a point o' bein' on decent terms with most of the Brethren. Especially the more powerful ones. I can't say she'll be pleased, but it's not likely she'll try to kill us."

* * *

"Mistress Ching will see you," the underling reported, "Remove your weapons."

As they took off their guns and swords, Elizabeth looked around. The grandeur of the place was remarkable. It made the governor's house in Port Royal seem shabby in comparison. Everything was clean, ornate, shiny even. And the barefoot servants had on much better finery than she or Barbossa had. Suddenly, Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to take a bath.

When they came into the presence of Mistress Ching, she was seated on a small couch, a young manservant on either side of her, fanning her breezily.

"Mistress Ching," Barbossa greeted, bowing and signaling for Elizabeth to bow as well, "It be a privilege to gaze upon yer beauty once again."

The old woman's powdered face creased into a slight smile. "Flattery…will get you everywhere, Captain Barbossa. And you are here with the infamous King Swann. To what do I owe this honor?"

"We were hoping we might make port here until we can make repairs," answered Elizabeth.

Barbossa gave her a somewhat stern sideways glance, but then smiled again at the Mistress. "We wouldn't dare trespass on yer hospitality without a proper invitation."

"Not at all, Captain," she replied almost too graciously. "Stay. Stay here, in fact, as my personal guests. I will make all the arrangements for your beautiful _Black Pearl_."

Barbossa was not entirely sure he liked her generous tone. "And what might a humble Pirate Lord such as meself offer in return?"

"Perhaps you both would like a bit of pleasure before business? A nice bath, maybe a nice girl? I keep elite stock for special guests."

"A bath would be most appreciated," replied Elizabeth.

"Aye. And many thanks, but as for women, I brought me own," said Barbossa.

"Oh. And you, King Swann?" asked the Mistress.

Elizabeth was a little taken aback, but managed to answer coolly, "…No, thank you. Perhaps another time," which earned a subtle smirk from her husband.

Mistress Ching signaled to her footman, who sped off to draw the baths. "Very well. Go. Wash and relax. We shall discuss business over dinner afterwards."


	16. Chapter 16

**Waste Not**

 **Chapter 16**

The bath was exquisite. Elizabeth hadn't had access to luxuries such as bath salts, perfumes, or even sponges in years. She took full advantage of it all and scrubbed herself until her skin was tender. At last, she felt clean enough to be in Mistress Ching's home.

A lady had come and taken Elizabeth's clothes to be washed, and had left in their place a simple kimono—it was burgundy, with white flower patterns and black trim. Elizabeth wore this only, the necklace Barbossa had given her tucked beneath its folds, and she loosely pinned back her wet hair. Thus attired, she was escorted to the dining hall.

Barbossa was already there, seated somewhat awkwardly on a cushion, conversing across the low table with Mistress Ching. He was smiling and she looked very pleased. He had probably been buttering her up.

She saw that they had not given him a kimono, but instead a clean undershirt—which hung on him loosely—and a plain but new-looking pair of trousers. He was absent his hat for once, but still wore a fresh bandana, which kept his hair out of his face.

"Do sit down, King Swann," the Mistress offered, "I have taken the liberty of pouring your drink."

She sat down promptly. "Thank you very much."

"Perhaps now we might talk a bit o' business," Barbossa suggested, taking a drink.

Mistress Ching held up her hand. "One moment, if you please, Captain. I have a bit of business of my own to take care of." She then barked an aggressive-sounding order in Chinese.

A vicious-looking man entered, the blade of his sword held at the throat of a young woman.

"For thievery of the lowest kind, I sentence you to be run through, dying a slow and painful death!" Ching shouted.

Elizabeth's eyes widened and she shared a look with Barbossa. The man with the sword smiled cruelly, but, in one fluid motion, the girl in his arms pried his sword from him and shunted the blade through his abdomen. Ching's guests were shocked, but not nearly as shocked as the man who'd been run through. The young woman turned and bowed to Mistress Ching, who gave a smile in return. In Chinese, she invited her to the table and ordered her footman to deal with the dying man.

"Captains Barbossa and Swann, it is my pleasure to introduce Yanmei, my protégé, and the next Pirate Lord of the Pacific Ocean."

Barbossa stood, quickly followed by Elizabeth.

"She is beautiful, is she not?" Ching continued.

"Aye, that she is," Barbossa answered sincerely, "And every bit as deadly, I can see. Yeh chose well."

"You're retiring?" Elizabeth asked the Mistress.

"Quite happily, I assure you. Sit now, all of you. Now we discuss our business."

The two Pirate Lords, as well as the soon-to-be Pirate Lord, all sat down. Dinner was served. Elizabeth looked over the younger woman. She was very young, and certainly beautiful. If you liked the Oriental look. Yet she held herself with a confidence that bespoke a great deal of experience. And possibly arrogance.

"So then," began Barbossa, "how can we thank yeh for yer boundless hospitality?"

"As I said, Captain, I am ready to retire. In peace. Yet still there are those who would disturb my leisure for the petty price on my head. One man in particular. Governor Jonathan Lovecraft, of Hong Kong."

"So yeh'd have us kill this Lovecraft?"

"Kill him? No. My plan is easier. And far more cruel…Blackmail."

"But why not just send yer own people?"

"He has grown to…mistrust those of our ethnicity. But two British, he would never suspect…I will give you everything you need. And I am willing to pay a great deal for my peace of mind…What say you?"

Barbossa shared a look with his wife and smiled. "I say we have an accord."

"Good. Eat now. Drink as much as you want to. You both stay with me until your ship is ready."

The dinner did not progress long before Yanmei spoke, and she made quite an impact when she did.

"They are lovers," she said.

Barbossa nearly choked on his drink.

"And what makes you so bold?" asked Elizabeth.

"Do not be flustered. It is easy to tell. I only wonder why you keep it secret?"

"I'm not keepin' it secret, lass. Had anyone bothered to ask, I'd have answered happily enough," Barbossa replied, having gained his composure, "Yeh be lookin' at a man and his wife."

"Well…" Yanmei looked Elizabeth up and down. "…she is pretty. But why marry? What is the gain?"

He could see her mind working, trying to understand the logic, the angle to such a match. He smiled and shrugged. "We be the marryin' types, I suppose."

* * *

In the quiet of the night, Elizabeth lay in Barbossa's arms, wide awake with thought.

"That Yanmei was quite a character" she said.

He opened his eyes and sighed. "Aren't yeh tired yet, Elizabeth?"

"No, I'm not. And did you hear her tone when she called me _pretty_? Condescending little wench, wasn't she?"

"Don't be so surprised. She's Ching's golden girl, after all."

"…Hector…why did we get married?"

"Go to sleep, lass."

"I'm serious. She couldn't seem to think of any reason why we might stay bound to each other."

"That girl is a dock walker who clawed her way to the top. She wouldn't understand it. You, on the other hand, know well enough why we got married."

"And why is that?"

He smiled. "If this be another attempt at gettin' me to say it, yer not doin' so well."

"For God's sake, Hector, what's the harm? You've told me before that you love me."

"Aye. So there be no reason to tell yeh what yeh already know." He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and rolled over, signaling the end of the conversation.

Elizabeth gave a somewhat frustrated sigh and stared at his back. She could make out a few of his larger scars in the faint moonlight, as well as the image of the tiger tattooed across the whole of his back. It was a ferocious thing to behold, but Elizabeth only smirked at its threatening glare and closed her eyes in sleep.

 **Hello again :)**

 **Just a few little notes: One, of course you know I don't own** _ **Pirates of the Caribbean**_ **or any of their characters. Two, I made up Lovecraft of Hong Kong, and I made up the whole situation regarding him, which will be in the next chapter. And three, I got the idea of Barbossa having a big tiger tattoo on his back from another fanfiction. I read that, and I just loved the idea.**

 **Again, I encourage you to comment, even if it's just to say hello. I hope you're all enjoying.**

 **All my love.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Waste Not**

 **Chapter 17**

"Do you have them?" Elizabeth asked Barbossa as they boarded the _Pearl_.

"Do I have what?"

"The papers. The ones we're supposed to switch with the real ones."

"Calm yerself. O' course I have them. Safe and pristine in me cabin, along with the invitations to the ball. Quit yer worryin'."

"I'm not worried…I just want everything to go smoothly, that's all. I never thought I'd have the chance go to a ball again."

A young Chinese girl stepped on board and immediately took up her station at Elizabeth's side.

Barbossa sighed. "Is the little wench really necessary?"

"I could hardly expect you to understand. A simple braid won't do for a ball. When the time comes, I shall need a lady's maid to help me look the part."

He threw up his hands. "As yeh like. Just don't be losin' track of her." He turned and headed for the helm. "Loose sails! Prepare to make way!"

* * *

Elizabeth stood beside the bed, already dressed, looking over a sleeping Barbossa. She gave him a nudge. "Hector… _Hector_."

He startled awake suddenly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing" she said, smiling, "Nothing, but get up."

"Elizabeth, if there be nothin' wrong…" He looked around. The sun had not yet begun to rise. "…Why in blazes are yeh pullin' me out o' bed at this hour?"

"Dancing lessons."

He glared at her.

"Honestly, this is important. We are going to walk into that ballroom as Lord and Lady Colchester, and I can assure you that Lord and Lady Colchester will be expected to dance."

He smiled slightly and stood. "Yeh shan't hear me complainin', lass. I expect yeh'll be makin' it all worth my while."

She smirked, but said nothing, waiting impatiently for him to pull his boots on.

* * *

"No, no," said Elizabeth, "You're still trying to pull me in too close. This isn't like dancing on some beach at night." She held him back rigidly. "And try to think of the steps as the footwork in your sword play." They went through the steps again. "That's it. Really, you're picking this up remarkably fast."

He gave her a little spin. "I can't begin to imagine why yer surprised."

* * *

Barbossa, dressed and ready to go, knocked impatiently at his cabin door. "Hurry up in there. Yeh've had all afternoon. Time's wearin' thin." Upon hearing no answer, he rolled his eyes and entered the room.

"Alright Lord Colchester, keep your trousers on," she replied haughtily.

She wore a lavish, pale golden dress and white silk gloves that went all the way up to her elbows. Her hair was pulled up in an elaborate updo and accentuated with pearls. Just above her cleavage was the necklace she had not failed to wear since the night he gave it to her.

"Yeh clean up nice, Mrs. Barbossa."

"That's Lady Colchester to you," she replied, sauntering up to him, her girl hanging back respectfully. "Anyway, I got you something." She handed him a small box. He opened it, pulling out a plain gold ring. "It's a wedding band. I'm wearing gloves, so I can get away with not having one, but you'll need it—to complete the disguise."

Barbossa smiled and slipped it on his ring finger. "Shall we?" he said, gesturing towards the door.

* * *

Governor Lovecraft boasted a most resplendent abode. Plantation-style pillars in the front stood sentinel to tall French doors. Inside, the foyer was grand. Light glimmered from a crystal chandelier, and, on either side, an elegant staircase ascended to the second story. The structure of the place was very European, but much of the decoration was Oriental. Statuettes of long, golden dragons seemed to be on every table, and all of the china and utensils were of traditional Chinese design. Everything was beautiful.

With the invitations they had been given, Elizabeth and Barbossa got in with no trouble. The governor himself, a lean man with just a touch of gray in his hair, took the liberty of presenting them to the rest of his party.

"Lord and Lady Colchester, may I present a very dear friend of mine, Mr. Darlington."

The young, black-headed man of whom he spoke greeted them with a charming grin. He was handsome and polished, and every bit as eloquent in speech. And his eyes stayed almost exclusively on Elizabeth. Barbossa disliked him immediately.

"Why, Lord Colchester," said Darlington, "I daresay you're a man of the sea."

"Aye, indeed," Barbossa replied, shooting a charming smile right back at him, "For more than thirty years now, and I'm sure I look it."

"You have a remarkable bearing about you. You're certainly the sturdiest-looking old chap I've ever seen. Would you say that the sea encourages longevity? Perhaps I should spend more time on it."

"It be a hard way o' life, but rewardin' if yeh manage to survive. Best to start out on it while yer young, so as to avoid conflict with men o' more experience."

"I can imagine. But your work must separate you from your lovely wife all too often. Tell me, Lady Colchester, is it quite convenient, being married to a seafaring man?"

"Convenient it is not, sir. Dreadfully lonely really. I've developed the bad habit of looking out on the ocean for his return. I'm afraid it's cost me my fair complexion."

"Not at all. The sun has only enhanced your beauty, I am sure. It gives you an air of the exotic, most entrancing."

"You're too kind."

Barbossa watched the man watch his wife. A look of unimpressed distaste crossed his face, and he took Elizabeth away from Darlington just as soon as it was convenient. The two continued to mingle sociably throughout the room.

A waltz was started and they began to dance.

"Where do yeh expect the man would keep his papers?" Barbossa asked quietly.

"Most likely in his study, or possibly in his bedroom. The latter would be upstairs, but I'm sure the study is somewhere down here. Let's have a look after this song."

Barbossa nodded and began to scan the crowd, searching out a clear path. His eyes found Darlington, whose eyes were on Elizabeth.

Shocking.

"You're pulling me in too close again, dearest," corrected Elizabeth.

Barbossa smirked. "I know exactly what I'm doin', lass." He pulled her all the closer and shot a charming smile towards Mr. Darlington.

Twenty minutes of socializing later, Elizabeth found herself standing around, playing the lookout as her husband trifled through Governor Lovecraft's personal things. She was outwardly calm, but starting to get nervous. All it would take was a stray glance by a wayward guest and they'd end up having to fight their way out. But then Barbossa was by her side again.

"It's not in there," he said quietly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Alright, well it must be in his bedroom then."

"Then what do yeh suggest?"

She smiled slyly. "Care to scandalize the honorable name of Colchester?"

"Aye. That be the finest idea I've heard all night."

"Well smile; here comes our chance. _Mr. Darlington_. How are you enjoying the party?"

Darlington beamed. "Very much, thank you. I wonder, might I ask the next dance, Lady Colchester?"

"Oh, I'd be delighted," Elizabeth replied, all but batting her eyelashes. She let herself be pulled away from Barbossa and onto the dance floor.

"Your husband is quite a man, my lady." He said as they danced.

"Oh do call me Cynthia" she replied.

"Cynthia. Well then I hope you'll call me Adam."

"That's a fine name indeed. Adam was the father of mankind after all."

"Ah. Yes, indeed." The dance continued. "…Cynthia, I hope you won't think me forward…"

"I'd welcome it."

"Ah. Well, I think you're positively exquisite. And all I can say is that I hope your husband is worthy of you."

"What would you do about it if I said otherwise?"

"…I beg your pardon."

"Oh Adam, look at him. I am practically a widow. He's fine enough company, I suppose, but he's at sea nine months out of the year."

"You unfortunate young woman. How lonely, how stifled you must be. Please, say that I may call on you some time?"

She pulled him close and whispered in his ear. "Would you like to call on me right now?"

"Here?"

"There's a bedroom upstairs, is there not?"

"Uh, I…well, yes, indeed." He cleared his throat and looked around. "You go up first."

Barbossa watched discreetly as Elizabeth slipped away. He then watched as Darlington looked around and tried to play it cool—though unable to hide his smugness. The captain rolled his eyes and bided his time.

Once Elizabeth got into the room, she began searching immediately for the documents. Luckily, Governor Lovecraft was pretty predictable when it came to filing. She found it and had just laid it aside when Darlington arrived.

"Oh Cynthia…" He swept her into a kiss without a moment's hesitation, and Elizabeth did her very best not to resist.

As they kissed, she worked to dishevel his appearance. She knew she didn't have much time, and she wanted the upcoming scene to be dramatic.

Barbossa didn't disappoint when he made his appearance but a moment later. Elizabeth made playing the jealous husband all too easy.

"Enjoyin' yerself, Darlington?"

The younger man yanked himself away from the woman in his arms, caught red-handed.

"Lord Colchester, I—"

"Nay, call me John." He shut the door with a threatening thud, shutting them all in together. "Since we're all on such _familiar_ terms."

Darlington backed away. "John, I assure you—"

Barbossa held up his hand. "I'll skip the speech yeh give to the husbands, if it's all the same to you." Noticing a wash basin, he picked up the empty water pitcher nonchalantly. "I'd rather be gettin' right to the fun bit." Without warning, he smashed it over the man's head. Darlington was out cold.

Elizabeth grinned. "That was fantastic!" She happily trotted over to the table and grabbed the document. "Quick, put this in your pocket and give me the other one."

It was done. Barbossa was just smoothing his jacket when Lovecraft burst in.

"In heaven's name, what happened?" He demanded.

"A fine party, Governor. I did truly enjoy meself. But I'm afraid the missus be a little out o' sorts, and we must be off." He grabbed Elizabeth by the wrist and pulled her towards the door. She did her best to look embarrassed. "Send me a bill for the pitcher."

* * *

" _That_ was fun," said Elizabeth, pulling the pins from her hair.

"Aye. Felt good to bust his head in."

"Poor Darlington," she laughed, "We really did take advantage of him."

"I feel he had it comin'."

"Well he's ruined now. And I've thoroughly soiled the good name of Colchester. You've every right to divorce me, you know."

He pulled her now loose hair back away from her face and kissed her neck. "Yeh've done right by the name Barbossa as of yet. Though I cannot take kindly to yer kissin' other men."

"I expect I shall have to be punished for that."

He smiled and spoke softly in her ear. "Yeh know me too well."


	18. Chapter 18

**Waste Not**

 **Chapter 18**

Mistress Ching was more than pleased at the success of the mission. Yanmei was at her side when Barbossa handed over the papers. The young woman was wearing nothing more than a red skirt and an enormous jewel necklace as a top, and she was looking especially smug.

"Now," said the Mistress triumphantly, "Now I may retire in peace. Yanmei..." The girl stepped forward and Ching pulled a piece-of-eight from her sleeve. "Witness, Captain…and _Mrs._ Barbossa, the ascension of a new Pirate Lord." She placed the coin in Yanmei's hand and they bowed to one another.

Yanmei approached her fellow Pirate Lords, her head held high. "I am your equal now. What do you say to that?"

"Welcome to the club," Barbossa responded.

"Yes, I'm sure you'll be…effective as a Pirate Lord," said Elizabeth.

Yanmei regarded her sharply, then spoke to Ching. "Mistress…do you notice anything about this English beauty?" Ching said something harsh in Chinese.

"Forgive me," Yanmei continued, "But something is different. Why, Mrs. Barbossa, you are practically glowing."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. Yanmei smiled slyly.

"Ah. You confirm my suspicion. My congratulations to you both. It is happy news, yes?"

Barbossa looked between the two women. "Anyone care to let me in on it?"

"She hasn't told you? I wonder why…" Yanmei looked as if she was having the time of her life.

Elizabeth looked as if she'd seen a ghost.

Barbossa eyed his wife. "What's she talkin' about?"

"How sweet a moment this is," Yanmei said sweetly.

"I…I haven't known that long. I—There's been no time to think…" Her head was swimming. She could feel each pair of eyes boring into her skull. The color rushed back to her cheeks as she grew angry at Yanmei, angry for suddenly putting her into this situation. "There's a child, alright? You and I, we're going to be parents, isn't that _bloody_ fantastic?" Her look became a glare as she turned from Barbossa to Yanmei. "I'm so glad I had this chance to tell you." She stormed out of the room.

Barbossa turned his eyes heavily towards the newest Pirate Lord. The woman had her hand pressed innocently to her heart, as if this were a touching moment.

"I can see yer goin' to be quite the trouble-maker," he commented, then quickly strode after his wife.

He caught up to her in Ching's garden. "Elizabeth."

At his voice, she stopped in her tracks, but didn't turn around.

"How long have yeh known this?" he asked.

"…Since we set sail for Hong Kong."

Her voice was still angry, but he could tell it was beginning to quiver. He took a couple steps closer. She still didn't turn. "Why did yeh keep it from me?"

"I wasn't ready to accept it…so I ignored it. I didn't know what to think or what to do. I still don't…I'm lost." She started to walk away again, but he grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her around.

"That's always been the trouble with you, Elizabeth. Yeh think yer alone in yer troubles. Yeh think they be yours and no one else's. Well let me spell something out for yeh, wife o' mine. This situation in particular be _half_ mine…We're lost together if we be lost at all."

She felt as though everything—every problem and every fear that she had—was hitting her all at once, and she choke it back anymore. Tears came to her eyes, and before she knew what she was doing, she threw herself into his arms and cried into his chest. Barbossa said nothing, but wrapped his arms around her tightly. It started to rain. They paid it no mind.

* * *

The _Pearl_ remained at port that night, and it was just as well, for there was a storm. And as the rain fell and the occasional thunder sounded, Barbossa and Elizabeth lay in bed, talking things out—now that they were mostly calm.

"It seems the real question is, where will you be dropping me off?" said Elizabeth.

"I don't understand yeh, lass."

"Hector…there's no place for someone of my condition on a pirate ship, let alone a baby. It just wouldn't work, and I've no intention of being a burden."

"We may need to set a course for home, aye. But I'll not be droppin' yeh off."

"Are you suggesting that I remain aboard?"

"I expect that bridge'll be crossed when we come to it. But whether on board or ashore, yeh'll not be fendin' for yerself."

"I'm capable, Hector. I was prepared to do this three years ago…if I'd gotten the chance."

"Well I did this nigh on thirty years ago. I left them. And I lost them. And I'll be damned if I make the same mistake twice."


	19. Chapter 19

**Waste Not**

 **Chapter 19**

 _ **Seven Years Later**_

Elizabeth found herself once again on Shipwreck Island, waiting for the sun to set. But she was not alone this time, and it had been years since she had felt lonely. Her son, Robert, ran ahead of her, excitedly chanting "A Pirate's Life For Me" as they approached the overlook. The tale of the _Flying Dutchman_ and her new captain was one of the lad's favorites, and he had insisted on going with his mother to see the green flash, at the very least. He was not disappointed, for he had hardly finished the song before the sun sank below the horizon, and suddenly a ship appeared in the midst of the flash.

Gazing at the ship, Elizabeth didn't notice Barbossa come up behind them, not until he was right at her side, their young daughter on his hip. He and Elizabeth shared a look, but said nothing. Barbossa turned his eyes fondly on little Antonia as she played with his earring.

"Papa," Robert pleaded, "can't I meet Captain Turner? Please? I'll do anything."

"The answer's not changed, lad. He was yer mother's friend, not mine. It all depends on her."

"Mum, please?"

"I said no, Robert. Not tonight anyway," she replied. "But he'll be here all day tomorrow, so we'll see…though I'm making no promises."

The boy's face lit up hopefully nonetheless.

"Off with you now, the lot of you," she continued, "I have to get down to the beach." She exchanged another glance with Barbossa, then made haste. This was it. After ten years—it felt like a lifetime—she was about to face Will Turner.

As she stood on the beach, as Will got closer, she almost got the feeling that this was happening too soon. But then there he was, just as handsome as ever, and all of the old feelings came rushing back.

"Elizabeth," he said, smiling softly.

"Oh Will," she whimpered, running into his embrace.

They hugged each other tightly for a long time. It made everything seem, briefly anyway, as if things were as they should have been. But then they kissed, and Elizabeth remembered that everything had changed. She pulled back. It didn't feel right anymore.

He responded with kind but sad eyes. "I know what you've been through, Elizabeth…Really, I do. I saw our William." He saw her touch her wrist automatically, fingering a small tattoo. "He was very small, of course, but I knew who he was…I watched over him as he entered the next world."

Elizabeth burst into tears. She couldn't help it, not with Will standing right there, within arm's reach at long last. Not when he spoke of the son they almost had. They sat down together on a dead tree and he held her for a while as she cried. "I'm so relieved," she said at last, "…We both got at least a little time with him."

"Yes. And he is at peace. He never knew life, so he had no fear of death."

"I'm glad he's at peace."

"But are you at peace, Elizabeth? I've worried a great deal over you."

"…You shouldn't worry about me, Will."

"How could I not? I left you, my bride, alone for ten years. I left you with a child, and when he was lost, I wasn't there for you. How could I be forgiven for such cruelty?"

"Psst. Mum!" a boy's voice called in a whisper. Robert peeked over the rock behind which he was hiding.

Elizabeth looked guiltily back at Will. "I only hope you'll forgive me…" She waved for Robert to join them. "…because I managed to pick up the pieces, and I started to live again." She patted Robert's shoulder.

"…This is your son?" Will seemed bewildered.

"Yes, this is Robert. And Robert, well, you know who this is."

"Captain Turner," the lad breathed, wide-eyed, "Your story is my very favorite. How you stabbed the heart of Davy Jones and saved all the pirates and the Pirate Lords. Is it amazing, getting to live forever?"

"In some ways, yes, it is amazing, young man…but of course I had to pay a steep price for it." He looked at Elizabeth.

"…Robert, I told you that you couldn't disturb Captain Turner with all of your questions tonight. Now be off with you, I mean it." She gave him a little shove and off he went, though slowly, and looking back often.

"So who's the father?" asked Will, obviously wounded.

She looked away, not knowing how to answer.

"Is it anyone I know?"

She nodded, meeting his gaze in a sideways glance.

"Oh my God, it's Jack." He stood.

"No! Goodness no." She stood as well. "It isn't Jack, I swear."

"Who then?"

Barbossa cleared his throat, getting their attention. "Apologies," he said, "but did yeh happen to see a young lad skulk about this way?"

"Barbossa…" Will said, confused, but his eyes widened when he saw the glint of a gold ring on the older man's finger. Realization hit him. "Oh my God."

"Ah…so our wife got right to the point, did she?"

" _Our_ wife?" Will felt like he was going insane.

"Well I expect there be plenty for us all to talk over, but first thing's first. Elizabeth, was Robert here or wasn't he?"

"He was," she replied, "I sent him back to you."

Barbossa rolled his eyes. "I'll be back shortly. Antony, darlin'," he spoke behind him, "c'mon out and go to yer mother."

A little face peeked out from behind Barbossa's leg. Will's eyes widened further and he looked at Elizabeth, who gave a helpless shrug.

"Don't be shy, lass. I've got yeh covered."

At her father's words, Antonia ran straight to Elizabeth. Will looked from Elizabeth to the girl to Barbossa, his head beginning to ache with bewilderment. Barbossa smiled at him and shrugged before walking off to find his son. Will heard him laugh as he got farther down the beach.

"You replaced me with… _Barbossa_?" asked Will.

"It was never my intention to replace you. You're my first husband. I loved you first."

"But you loved _him_ last."

"…I won't deny it. I did grow to love him, especially after we were married."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

His indignant tone set her on edge, and a long-repressed anger bubbled momentarily to the surface. "Only that it was nice to have someone who was there!"

There was a silence. Elizabeth bit her tongue when she saw the helplessness in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," said she, "None of this is your fault."

"But it is. I was obsessed with freeing my father from Davy Jones. I knew all along where that path might lead, and I still took it."

"If you hadn't stabbed the heart, you'd be dead, Will. It's better this way."

"…So this is your daughter?"

"Yes, this is Antonia. It's Captain Turner, darling. Say hello." The girl hid her face. Elizabeth smiled. "I'm afraid she's a bit shy."

"Well she's very pretty…Barbossa called her Antony. Does he wish she were a boy?"

"She and her father are as thick as thieves…"

"It be safer for boys in the world o' piracy, Captain Turner." Barbossa strode up, Robert at his heels. "Until the little miss can hold a pistol, I have two sons, and that's the way of it."

Will set his jaw at the sight of the returning captain. He was getting over the initial shock, and though he had sympathy for Elizabeth, he had none for Barbossa. The presence of the captain he had once (sort of) respected was now completely infuriating. "I daresay you're right," he answered through gritted teeth, "Antony is a fine name. Elizabeth, I wonder if I could speak to your husband alone for a moment."

"…Uh, yes. Alright. Come along, children." She led them off as the two men went the other way.

"What be on yer mind, Master Turner?" Barbossa asked after they'd gone a reasonable distance.

"Just this."

Will punched him in the face.

"I'd have expected you of all people to understand!" the younger captain exclaimed, "We're both men of the sea. Long periods of separation come with the territory."

Barbossa spat some blood into the sand. "Speak for yerself. If I care to go out to sea, I take my woman along."

" _My_ woman, you mean. Barbossa, you married us, if you'll recall. Have you no conscience?"

"T'would've pricked me conscience all the more had I left her to waste away on this god-forsaken beach."

Will tried to punch him again, but Barbossa blocked him and kicked him in the stomach.

"I didn't marry her at gunpoint, William. Elizabeth needed someone, and I was there."

"To take advantage of the situation," Will coughed, clutching his stomach.

Barbossa chuckled. "And I did take rather _thorough_ advantage, didn't I?"

Will moved to attack him once more, but Barbossa drew his pistol. "That'll be enough o' that."

"You can't kill me, Barbossa."

"Maybe not, but I expect it'll hurt just the same."

"Fine then. Have it your way. What's done is done." His voice lowered to almost a whisper. "We've all made our choices." He began to walk away.

Barbossa lowered his gun with a sigh. "Yer a bit more pathetic than I once thought."

Will turned and drew his sword. Barbossa raised his pistol again.

"You will not stand there and insult me! Not when you have taken everything that was once mine. Not when you've stolen the life I should have had!"

"For all intents and purposes, Will Turner, yer dead. What do yeh wish yeh'd found here? Yer faithful wife, pinin' away like a dog?"

"Had our son survived, she wouldn't have been alone."

"Aye, that be true enough. Only who'd have been a father to the lad? As likely as not, it would've been me. We both know it wouldn't have been you."

"I wanted to be there!"

"Well that's not the same, is it now? Those are the cards yeh been dealt. Yeh couldn't be there."

Will looked down dejectedly. Barbossa put his gun away.

"Think o' her, Master Turner. T'wouldn't have been fair for her to bear that child without yeh there with her. A man…needs to be there."

Will sheathed his sword. There was a long silence between them. And then Will met Barbossa's eyes. "…What's it like? Having a proper life with Elizabeth?"

Barbossa smirked—which greatly irked Will—and replied, "I wouldn't call it a proper life by any account. But she's a good wife, for a pirate, at least. And though the young brats certainly put a kink in the lifestyle…they was worth the slowin' down." He softened greatly at the mention of his children, a side of Barbossa Will had never seen before.

"I envy you."

The softness went away. "Yes, well, that be obvious enough. But I daresay we'd all be better served if yeh quit yer whimperin' and carry on. Yeh have yer one day. Do with it as yeh like."

"So you'd allow me to spend my day with Elizabeth?"

"We're only on this island now because o' you. Didn't seem right to her to leave yeh without explanation. It'll be her decidin' what to do with yeh now yer here."

"I see. Well I'd best go to her then."

Barbossa sighed. "Aye. Really, yeh be wastin' yer time with me."


	20. Chapter 20

**Waste Not**

 **Chapter 20**

Over the course of that night and the following day, Will and Elizabeth both talked and fought quite a bit. Will also cried a little and kissed her once, but they both pretty much just thought of Barbossa as they kissed, and there was pretty much no effort for physical contact after that. Instead, Will took to being silent and grim-faced, while Elizabeth spent half her time absently clutching at her necklace. For a long while, it was just a rotten day—certainly not the way Will had expected to spend his time.

Eventually, however, they both settled around a fire with the kids, and Will told them stories. Though he felt on some level that he shouldn't like the offspring of the man who had taken advantage of his absence, the young captain couldn't ignore the sheer admiration in the eyes of the children, or how they hung on his every word. He could see Elizabeth in both of them, and his (metaphorical) heart grew fond. Barbossa sat with them at the fire, which of course Will didn't care for, but the older captain remained mostly quiet, and for that he was thankful.

All too soon for the eager young Robert and curious little Antonia, it was time for the _Dutchman_ 's captain to return to sea, and after a hug and a kiss on the cheek from Elizabeth, that's exactly what he did.

Captain Barbossa and his lot were on board the _Pearl_ again in no time. He took the helm, a more than satisfied look on his face.

"Make way for Hispaniola!"

* * *

It was dark. A mist hung in the air, draping the moon mysteriously. It was a good night for the phantasmagorical.

Suddenly, there emerged a terrible figure out of the black, a ship with an evil look. Barbossa barely got a look at it before the canon fire began, but what he saw struck fear into his heart. It was the _Queen Anne's Revenge_.

Before the first cannonball even hit, he turned immediately to his cabin and ran to his family. They were all up, all honestly scared, and all looking to him. Thinking fast, he strode to the large window in the back, grabbing a heavy candlestick as he went.

"What's happening?" Elizabeth demanded.

"It's Blackbeard," he replied, and then promptly began smashing out the window.

There was noise of all-out war above, and the sea beneath the _Pearl_ began to roil; the very wood of the ship began to creak and stretch.

"Out yeh go, the lot o' yeh!" ordered Barbossa.

"Are you mad?" asked Elizabeth, clutching her young children.

"It be madness to stay aboard. Out yeh go, Robert. You first."

She wouldn't let the boy go. "We'll drown."

"Swim to the shore. I'm not arguin'."

The _Pearl_ had come to life, only to turn against her crew. The noise was deafening.

Barbossa all but threw his son out the window. Elizabeth screamed and ran to look down after him, clutching her daughter tightly in her arms. She then looked at her husband, and a lot was said in that look.

"…You're not coming with us."

Barbossa wished for an instant that he had time to say everything that needed said, that he could get in one last kiss, or even a goodbye, but he had no time at all. Elizabeth only saw a flash of sadness in his eyes before she and Antonia were shoved out into the sea.

* * *

Once Elizabeth and the children made it to shore—she deemed it a miracle that they did—and once the noise of the battle had ceased, all was still. All did not remain still for very long, but waiting, soaking wet, on a beach with two frightened children, not knowing anything of the future, made it seem very long indeed.

Dawn was just beginning to break when they heard a thump, followed by a groan. Quickly, they dashed to the source. It was a mostly-intact longboat, washing up against the rocks. Elizabeth warned the kids to stay back as she approached it. Robert pulled his little sister into a hug and they stood watching in each other's arms.

Elizabeth all but screamed with joy—and then with utter heartbreak—at the sight of her husband. Her hand flew to her mouth as her eyes took in the monstrous amount of blood. Tears blurred her vision.

His right leg was missing below the knee.

"Oh my God," she whimpered, overwhelmed, as she pulled the boat further in, trying to think of what to do. "No, stay back!" she tearfully commanded the curious children. They did as she said.

She made herself look at the wound again. He'd had the wherewithal to tie his bandana tightly above the amputation in an effort to stop the bleeding. She took off her own bandana and doubled the effort. Barbossa groaned in reaction, but he wasn't conscious. Elizabeth almost wished he was so he could tell her what to do. She was ready to panic.

"We need help. We need a doctor," she cried, sinking to her knees.

Robert went to her side and put a hand on her shoulder. "We'll find one, Mum."

* * *

Barbossa came to a hazy, pain-stricken awareness. The first thing he realized was that the sun was bright, then that the sun was shining through a window. Slowly, he found himself in a room, on a cot, near a table that was littered with medical tools and bloody bandages. He then remembered his situation, and what remained of his optimism told him he was lucky to be here.

"You're awake," said a shaky voice.

How had he not noticed another person in the room? But despite all pain and all confusion, when he saw Elizabeth and felt her cool hands on his face, relief flooded his heart.

"We weren't certain you'd wake at all," she continued, a large tear sliding down her cheek, "Hector, I…" She couldn't go on for the lump in her throat, and set her head down on his shoulder and cried in a painful mixture of anguish and relief.

It didn't hurt too much to move his arms, but he would've wrapped them around her even if it had.

"Where are me boys?" he asked after a moment.

Elizabeth gave a slight chuckle and wiped her face. "They're outside. Robert's keeping watch."

Barbossa tried to sit up, and managed it with a bit of help, though the cotton sheets felt like broken glass against his leg. He winced. "Bring them in here."

Robert entered cautiously with Antonia before their mother even had the chance to turn around. They eyed their father, looking eager to go to him, but hesitating.

"What're yeh shy about, lads?"

Smiles flashed on their little faces and they went to his side quickly.

"Don't jump on him," Elizabeth warned, but Barbossa was already taking them up in his arms. He hugged them tightly and closed his eyes, swallowing the lump in his own throat, pushing aside the thought that he might have lost them.

Antonia started to sniffle as she clung to him.

"Don't cry, Antony," he said softly, kissing her head, "Don't cry. I'm here. It'll be alright." He was telling himself as much as his daughter.

He looked up at Elizabeth, making eye contact with her. "It'll be alright."


	21. Chapter 21

**Waste Not**

 **Chapter 21**

 _Elizabeth,_

 _I'm in English waters as I write this, but gods only know where the hell I'll be by the time ye get it. I know I left without sayin' too much, and I know ye hated it. But since I be such a fine husband, and since I've got so much damn time on me hands right now, here are the words ye wanted._

 _I'm doin' this for revenge, and that's about all there is to it. Ye acted like it was somethin' to do with ye or the brats, but that was just yer female mind at work. It's just revenge, and I need to do it. Trust me._

 _Stay on Tortuga where I put ye and don't dare follow me. Keep my lads safe. Apologies for makin' ye wait. Hang on to that necklace (yer welcome, seein' as I got it back for ye). I'll be back._

 _Hector_

 _P.S. Thank ye, Elizabeth, for tradin' that necklace when me leg needed work._

* * *

 _Elizabeth,_

 _Ye should take a gander at His Majesty. No wonder we ruled the seas as we did for so long. England's king wouldn't survive a day without his royal cake and ice cream. Maybe ye'll see him one day. Ye'll have a good laugh._

 _Ship captains on the right side of the King's law get more leisure time than I'd expected, which is why I be writin'. I haven't forgotten ye, nor the boys. I've been gone a while. Don't let Antony forget me._

 _There are whispers of the Fountain of Youth and Blackbeard goin' there. I be on the right course._

 _Affection,_

 _Hector_

* * *

 _Elizabeth,_

 _Don't expect more letters after this one. We set sail tomorrow to claim the Fountain for England and for glory. I care not for King George or magic waters, but my chance at Blackbeard is nigh, and I aim to seize it for what it's worth._

 _I know yer worryin', and I wish ye'd stop. I can feel it from here. It's annoyin'. I've well got over the pain. Me leg is fine—what's left of it—and it'll soon be avenged. I'll be havin' quite a story to tell when I get back._

 _When this is over, I'll be headed straight for Tortuga. Ye'd better be there, and with both of me sons (and I better not find ye've taken a third husband). I won't say I miss ye, but ya'll have been on me mind._

 _Keep waitin'. I won't be much longer. And don't fret. I may be half lame, but remember I've got the advantage of intelligence._

 _Love,_

 _Hector_

* * *

Elizabeth waited, hovering around the docks whenever she got the chance, but she was never alone. It wasn't like when she'd waited for Will. She didn't feel hopeless, and in that way it was so much easier, especially with her son and daughter to keep her company. But she'd only ever had one fleeting night with Will. She had never gotten used to seeing him every day or cuddling close to him every night. With Barbossa, she'd had eight years of almost constant interaction. In that way, waiting for him to come back was much _much_ harder.

He'd sent her three letters, and she read them and re-read them until they were almost worn out. She wanted to be on this adventure with him, but she just couldn't be, not this time. Their children were simply too young still. She could only pray that Barbossa knew what he was doing.

Around sunset on the bajillionth day, Elizabeth made out a very ominous-looking ship on the horizon. As it came into the bay, all other vessels seemed to shy away from it, and once she saw it clearly, she understood why. Her heart sank. It was the _Queen Anne's Revenge_.

She wasn't sure what to do. Did this mean that Blackbeard had merely escaped Barbossa's wrath, or was her husband dead? In either case, perhaps she should try to kill Mr. Teach herself now that he was here. Or perhaps she should flee with her children like a sensible person.

"Come on, darlings," she said, taking each child by the hand, "Let's get off this dock." They all turned and, wanting to move quickly, Elizabeth hoisted Antonia onto her hip.

"Ahoy!" came a voice on the wind.

Antonia looked over her mother's shoulder and watched the fast-approaching ship curiously.

"Ahoy there!" came the voice again.

The little girl's eyes widened and she began to squirm against her mother's grasp with all her might.

"Antony… _oh_ , what is it?"

"It's Papa. Let go. Let _go!_ "

Elizabeth set her down, but held her arm tightly, letting neither of her excited children escape as she scanned the vessel now making port. All three of them spotted the ship's captain simultaneously. To Elizabeth's sheer delight, it was not Blackbeard, but none other than Hector Barbossa. He'd done it. He'd done it, and it had paid off. It couldn't have turned out any better than this.

"Hector!" she heard herself yell, a joyful grin on her face.

"Ah, now there be me first mate!" Barbossa called, standing tall.

Robert and Antonia broke free and ran towards their father, Elizabeth not far behind them.

"And me cabin boys are a mite bigger than when I saw 'em last."

Barbossa patted their heads when they threw their little arms around his waist. Elizabeth didn't embrace him (yet), but positively beamed. The crew of the _Revenge_ watched them all.

"Now me crew is complete." The captain addressed them, "Take a week off, lads. Do as yeh please. Mind yer back by day seven, or get left behind. Now off with yeh!"

The men cheered and began to disembark immediately. When they'd gone, Barbossa dropped down on his good knee and hugged his children close.

"We missed you, Papa," said Antonia.

"I missed yeh, too, darlin'."

"Where all did you go? Did you kill Blackbeard? Did you talk to the King of England?" asked Robert eagerly.

"Steady on, lad. I'll tell it all in due time." He stood. "But first, you two run along and look 'round yer new home. See if yeh like it better than the _Pearl_."

The kids looked at each other, then took off down the deck. Smiling, Elizabeth watched them go.

"I'd like a word with the mother."

Elizabeth turned back to Barbossa, who was wearing a small smile of his own. She stepped closer to him, and, for a lingering instant, they just looked at one another. But the kiss that followed bespoke all the lonesome days and weary nights they'd had to live apart. And when they separated, their eyes held a glad excitement for the adventures to come.

 **The End**

 **Hello beloved readers :)**

 **Expect an epilogue after this chapter. Also, as I mentioned before, I will be doing "deleted scenes" for this story. I have one written already, and another that I have an idea for. I would be more than happy to take requests for other scenes if anyone wants something else added to this story. Don't be shy. I love it when people reach out, and I'd love it to happen more.**

 **All my love.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Waste Not**

 **Epilogue**

 _ **Fifteen Years Later…**_

Shipwreck Cove was once again abuzz with eclectic activity as the Fifth Brethren Court assembled. For those who arrived first, there was an unfortunate amount of waiting around to do, and therefore fights to be had, debauchery to be pursued, and alignments to be made (if one was clever).

The courtroom was already half full when Jack Sparrow entered it. Managing to appear half drunk as always, he keenly observed everyone, the old and the new faces.

One new face was a woman. Well, he hadn't gotten a look at her face yet, just the back of her head—though the back of her head looked oddly familiar…

"First time at Shipwreck Cove, love?" he asked, deciding to break the ice.

When she turned around, however, his charming smile evolved into a look of sheer confusion. There was a silence as they regarded one another. The young woman looked decidedly unimpressed.

"You must be Jack Sparrow," she said finally.

He looked at her as though his eyes were playing tricks on him. "…You're not…I'm sorry, who are you?"

"I'm not Elizabeth, if that's what's confusing you."

"…Alright. Now you've really got my attention. How do you know Elizabeth? And how did you get her face?"

She looked at him like he was an idiot. "I'm her daughter."

"Ah, well of course. I knew there'd be an explanation. The circle of life's done a whole rotation right before my eyes. You know, I made your mother King of the last Brethren Court—"

"I know all about it, Captain Sparrow." She pulled out one of her swords and started to polish it. "You're a household name in my family."

"…You look just like her, you know."

"Yes, well, it is a mite obvious."

"What's your name?"

"Barbossa."

The confusion was back.

"…Barbossa? Odd name for a girl."

"Oh Captain, don't be a fool. My name's Antony. Barbossa is my last name."

"…I'm sorry, love, I just had a hallucination. What did you say your name was?"

"Antonia Barbossa. Captain of the _Iron Rose_. Pirate Lord of the South China Seas. Have I made it clear enough for you this time?"

"…Alright…you are the daughter of Elizabeth, maiden name Swann…and your father is…"

"Hector Barbossa…You knew him."

And Jack's sense of reality quietly imploded.

"Why gods above," said a new voice, "It's Captain Jack Sparrow." A young man strode up, standing next to Antonia. He took Jack's somewhat limp hand and shook it. "An honor, Captain. We've been told stories about you all our lives."

Jack gazed at their clasped hands as if he'd never seen a handshake before.

"I see you and my sister have already become acquainted. Antony." He nodded to her.

Jack's eyes widened. "There are more of you?"

After a pause, the young man leaned towards Antony, still looking at Jack. "What is he talking about?"

She smirked. "Our existence shocks him, Robert. He knew our parents, but he obviously never knew them as a couple. Some friend he must've been, to lose track of them like that."

"…Excuse me, young lady who is only a dream," Jack interjected, "I happen to be an excellent friend. It was your father, as you call him, who stole the _Pearl_ from me… _twice_. And besides…we were more like…good acquaintances really. But none of it matters, because I am simply passed out drunk somewhere, having this conversation with meself."

"This is real, Jack. We're here," said Robert.

"No you're not. Children, I _knew_ Elizabeth Swann. All she ever cared about was Will Turner. In fact, she married him. In double fact, 'twas Hector Barbossa who officiated, so I hear. I've been to the Locker, mates. I know when my mind's playing tricks on me. I can see right through this one." He narrowed his eyes and pointed between the two of them before stepping away.

The two siblings watched him go, then turned to one another, Antony rolling her eyes.

"Well," said Robert, "he is as odd as they say he is."

"How have you been, Brother?"

"Oh, I can't complain. Profits aren't exactly up lately, but they're steady. Have you seen Mum at all recently?"

"Not since Christmas. Why?"

"She still owes me money from our last game. I'd gain a small fortune if only she'd pay up."

"Papa encourages her not to as a way of teasing you. You ought to just quit gambling altogether."

"Antony, please, that's like telling you to give up drinking."

She scoffed, but with a slight smile. "What's a pirate without his vices? Anyway, when do you think we'll see them again?"

"Couldn't say. They're supposed to be 'semi-retired' now, but they never stay in one place long. They get bored too easily. Bloody hard to keep track of them."

"That's the Barbossa way, I suppose."

* * *

At last, the nine Pirate Lords were assembled around the big table in Pirate Hall. Of the previous Brethren Court, only three remained: Chevalle of the Mediterranean, Gentleman Jocard of the Atlantic, and Jack Sparrow of the Caribbean. The rest were either dead, retired, or usurped. There was now Altan of the Black Sea, Madan of the Indian Ocean, Yanmei of the Pacific, Barbossa of the South China Seas, Barbossa of the Caspian Sea, and Joaquin of the Adriatic. This was the Fifth Brethren Court, and they were all just as hot-tempered and argumentative as the last four.

It was Robert who banged on the table with a ball and chain and brought the court to order.

"For those of you who don't already know," he said, "we're here on a matter of dire importance."

"And it better be!" shouted Joaquin, who was just to his right, "If you're wasting my time—"

Robert's gun was suddenly against the Spaniard's forehead. "Don't interrupt me…As I was saying, dire importance. I'm afraid someone, someone in this very room, has been making attempts to bind Calypso, thereby repeating the mistake of our predecessors."

A murmur arose. "Name him!" yelled Jocard angrily.

"Care to step forward, Joaquin?" Robert asked, gesturing with his gun, "I'm sure we'd all be interested in your explanation."

Nervousness flashed across the man's face, but he found his resolve and addressed the room. "I do not deserve your anger! What I am trying to do will benefit us all, as it did in times past. Free, Calypso will always hinder us!"

"He is not so wrong," said Altan, "We do suffer under her rule."

"We suffer either way!" Jocard replied, "Don't be a fool!"

"Give me ze Spaniard," shouted Chevalle, "so zat I may remove his tongue!"

The debate quickly escalated into a shouting match. Jack Sparrow had been quiet through all this, and remained so now, waiting to see where this went before he had his say. His train of thought suffered somewhat of a déjà vu moment, however, when Antony stepped up on the table and fired her pistol. Her movements just then were so like Barbossa that Jack began to feel particularly dazed.

"Calypso is the sea, or can you not get that through your thick skulls!" she said, "She will not suffer being bound again. Do you think we suffer now? If we tempt her, she will make the sea a living hell for us all!"

"Aye!" Robert chimed in, "But that aside, it would take all nine of us to do the job, and I—"

"A vote then! Put it to a vote! We must—"Joaquin's first mate was cut off by a bullet in his heart. He fell over dead.

Robert lowered his pistol. "Don't interrupt me." He cleared his throat and put the gun away. "I for one will never vote in favor of this."

"Nor I," said Antony, who'd taken her seat again.

"Well," interjected the dangerously charming voice of Yanmei, "how proud old Barbossa must be to hold two seats in the court, and…with such handsome children."

"What are you about, Yanmei?" asked Robert suspiciously.

"I only wonder, when we call for the vote, whether it is fair for Barbossa to get two votes, while the rest of us get only one."

"I am not my father," said Robert and Antony at once. The siblings shot each other an annoyed look.

"To hell with your nonsense, wench," Robert said.

"Aye," Antony agreed, "We each have an equal say. Though not all of us got our titles lying down."

Yanmei's eyes widened, then narrowed into a scowl. She said something angrily in Chinese. Antonia glared and responded in Chinese. Soon the two women were shouting at each other across the table, and only a few could understand a thing they were saying—though it all sounded nasty. Yanmei drew her gun. A hand seized her wrist just before she pulled the trigger, however, and the shot was buried in the ceiling instead of Antony's forehead. All eyes turned to Jack Sparrow.

"Now now, girls," he said with a smile, "Play nice." He stood and addressed the court. "Gentlemen, let's not kid ourselves. This Calypso business is old news. And though there are obviously a few ambitious little spit-fires in our group, I think that most of us are already in agreement…to not go out and do something _monumentally_ stupid. It's not much of an issue really…I'll tell you where the real issue lies…" He leaned over the table, looking pleased. "America."

Murmuring began.

"Just so," Robert interjected, "There is a war coming. A war between England and her colonies."

"Precisely," Jack continued, "Use your imagination, mates. Think how we could capitalize on such a thalassic military endeavor…It could change the very world."

* * *

The meeting called to an end, each Pirate Lord began to go about his own business. Amid the scattering crowd, Robert pulled Jack aside.

"Appreciated the support, Jack. Come aboard the _Instigator_ and let me show you a good time. I've got a deck of cards and rum to spare."

"Ooh…I'm heartily tempted by the rum, but, um…" He glanced over his shoulder. Yanmei smiled slyly and waved him over. "It's been a long time since I've been aboard a Chinese vessel, if you know what I mean."

"Isn't she a bit young for you?" Robert smirked.

"Well she's much too old for you, mate." They gave each other a friendly look. "We'll meet again, son; you can count on that. No doubt we'll fight some naval battles together. Perhaps even with that stout-hearted little sister of yours."

"I know she'd love that."

Jack clapped him on the shoulder. "Give my regards to your father, eh?" He began to leave. "Oh, and your sainted mother. Frightfully unpredictable, that woman."


	23. Chapter 23

**Waste Not**

 **Deleted Scene, Chapter 16**

Clothes flung carelessly over a nearby chair, Barbossa let himself sink into the hot bathwater. A vague recollection of his last bath came to mind—it had been frigid—as the water all but scalded his skin. Once settled, he eyed the silver tray on a small, low table beside the tub, which held all manner of fancy toiletries: soap, bath salts, perfumes, a sponge. All kinds of frilly things.

Enjoying the hot water as it relaxed his muscles, he decided he might as well examine the accoutrements at hand. For the fun of it, he opened a bottle of perfume and took a whiff. He immediately flinched at the heavy, flowery scent. A drop of that and he'd smell like petunias for a week. He took care to return the bottle to its original place, unused.

Next, Barbossa opened the jar of bath salts, out of which came an even stronger, heavier scent, a sort of musky, lavender smell. This one he disliked less, but he still didn't quite feel in the mood to smell like a highborn lady. He certainly didn't mind getting clean once in a blue moon, however, and more than willingly picked up the bar of soap, which held only a fresh, clean-linen sort of smell.

Growing steadily more relaxed as the water soothed his back and legs, he began to work up a lather in his hands and scrub it thoroughly across his body and his face, then into his hair, which he loosed from his bandana, and finally into the bandana itself, whistling half a tune as he did so.

It was around this time that the door clicked softly behind him. A beautiful young woman stalked gracefully into the room. Barbossa did not notice her entrance until she announced herself. "Good evening, Captain," she said, her Chinese accent thick, but charming.

After an instant of initial surprise at her sudden appearance, Barbossa quickly realized that this girl could be here for two different reasons. One, she could be a servant meant to attend to his clothes and such. Or two, she could be one of Ching's famous ladies of the evening, sent to provide her unmatched standard of "hospitality." The woman did have what looked to be a set of fresh clothes in her hand, but the intensity in her gaze made Barbossa guess that she was there for the latter reason.

"I have fresh clothes for you," she continued, "and I will take your others to be washed."

Barbossa sized her up for another second before wringing out his bandana. "Aye then," he said dismissively, "Give yer mistress my regards. Truly, I never been so luxuriously treated."

She set the clothes down, but didn't so much as look at the dirty ones as she stepped closer to the tub. "Is there any more I can do," she purred, loosening her robe, "to make it more…luxurious?" Suddenly, she was kneeling at his side, her gaze level with his own, her silk robe slipping from one shoulder.

Barbossa looked from her shoulder to her piercing, dark eyes and gave a single, somewhat sarcastic chuckle. "I think yeh'd better go, lass." He hung the damp bandana over the side of the tub. "Yer mistress'll be displeased if me clothes remain unwashed."

The woman smirked. "My mistress will be displeased if her guests are not given the _finest_ treatment possible." She let the fabric fall from her other shoulder.

When she averted her gaze for a short moment to look through the tray of toiletries, Barbossa rolled his eyes. This situation was starting to get trickier. But his humoring half-smile was back on his face when her eyes returned to him. He wouldn't give away his unease.

She had picked up the sponge, and she began to dip it in the cloudy water. "A captain, so long at sea…" She began to massage the warm, wet sponge into his chest. "…he needs a woman when he comes to shore."

What she was doing felt _really_ good. She was obviously skilled at her job. He sighed inwardly. He'd given his word. Elizabeth had specifically insisted on monogamy. It was part of their arrangement. He'd made the promise. And he liked their arrangement.

He took a firm hold on the woman's wrist and made her stop. "There'll be no doubtin' Ching's _hospitality_ , but, as I told her already, I be set when it comes to women."

She pulled her hand out of his grasp and stood, still baring her shoulders. "And where are these women? Why are they not bathing their captain? Tsk. They neglect their master."

Barbossa almost laughed at the idea of being a master to Elizabeth. Maybe he was in some respects, but, then again, he was equally enslaved to her. If he presumed to call himself her master, whether he was or not, she'd eat him alive. "I can assure you, I'm well looked after. Yeh can consider yerself relieved o' yer duties for the night, though I'm sure they were well practiced."

"Such a gentleman," she mocked, untying the silk rope at her waist, "Come come, my captain…you are a pirate."

Suddenly, the robe was at her ankles, and, given her profession, he shouldn't have been surprised that there was nothing underneath it. Still, his breath caught in his throat and he couldn't help but groan a little in annoyance. She was becoming a problem.

A few seconds ticked by as he looked her over, growing more frustrated with each passing second. He met her eyes again, his gaze hardened. "Leave."

She put her hands on her hips. "You want me to get out? You get out. I will get a towel and dry you off."

He rolled his eyes and looked away, silently considering the best way to escape.

"Very well," she continued, "If you will not get out, I will get in." Her words were playful, but an almost predatory look flashed into her eyes, which was vaguely unnerving.

Without further ado, she was wiggling her way into the water. And she had barely sat down before Barbossa sighed audibly and lifted himself out of the tub, managing to dodge her grasp.

"Why, Captain," she teased him as he toweled off, "what of your modesty?"

He quickly slipped into the clean pair of trousers as she spoke and gave her a smirk. "I never said I was shy."

"Come back into the water," she said seductively.

"Nay…" He slipped the fresh shirt over his head. "…the water's lukewarm by now." He stepped back over to the tub and leaned down to her, cupping her chin firmly in his hand and looking into her fierce eyes. "And a wise man don't swim with sharks if he can help it."

* * *

Shaking off the deep frustration that the 'bathing incident' had caused, Barbossa found his way to Ching's dining hall and was greeted by the mistress herself.

"Ah, Barbossa. Come. Sit." She gestured to a cushion at a low table.

He eyed the seat uncertainly, but smiled when he looked back at Ching and gave her a nod. He strode to the cushion and, somewhat awkwardly, made himself comfortable.

"I trust everything has been to your satisfaction, Captain?" she asked, sitting gracefully herself.

"Oh, much more than I deserve, to be sure. Yeh'll forgive me for not lettin' yer girl to her job, by the way. As I'd said, I've no need for spare women."

Ching looked vaguely surprised. "I sent no woman to you, Barbossa. Why give a guest what he does not desire?"

"Is that so?" Barbossa looked thoughtful. "Well I daresay yeh've got a bit of a rogue on yer hands then, for a girl did come to me, and she was frightful persistent."

A flash of realization seemed to cross the older woman's cloudy eyes, and it did not go unnoticed.

"But there be no harm done," Barbossa said warmly, "and we need not speak of it to anyone." He gave her a friendly, meaningful look. "I still be greatly in yer debt." He smiled at her pleased look. Elizabeth entered just then, and Barbossa's chest tightened at the sight of her, though he remained as outwardly calm as before.

"Do sit down, King Swann," their hostess offered, "I have taken the liberty of pouring your drink."

Once Elizabeth was seated at his side, Barbossa began to relax a bit, and he felt more than ready to move on to the business at hand. Moving on, however, did not seem to be in the cards just yet. On Ching's orders, a vicious-looking man entered, the blade of his sword held at the throat of a young woman. The very same woman who had accosted him not fifteen minutes before. As Ching barked out the death sentence, Barbossa's head buzzed with thought. Was she being killed because of him? Was this some sort of test?

He exchanged a glance with Elizabeth, and he could tell they were both wondering the same thing: should we do something?

It quickly became clear, however, that the girl did not require anyone's help. In one fluid motion, she was free and her captor was dying on the floor. The young woman turned and bowed to Mistress Ching, who smiled in return.

"Captains Barbossa and Swann, it is my pleasure to introduce Yanmei, my protégé, and the next Pirate Lord of the Pacific Ocean."

Barbossa stood, quickly followed by Elizabeth.

"She is beautiful, is she not?" Ching continued.

"Aye, that she is," Barbossa answered sincerely, meeting Yanmei's gaze, "And every bit as deadly, I can see. Yeh chose well."

At last, business was attended to. In exchange for Ching's gracious generosity, Barbossa and Elizabeth were to go on a little mission for her. That was all well and good. What Barbossa didn't care for was the way Yanmei was staring him down, though he did his best to ignore her. To his relief, Elizabeth didn't seem to notice. Her thoughts were somewhere else for the moment.

The dinner did not progress long before Yanmei spoke, and she made _quite_ an impact when she did.

"They are lovers," she said.

Barbossa nearly choked on his drink.

"And what makes you so bold?" Elizabeth demanded.

"Do not be flustered. It is easy to tell. I only wonder why you keep it secret?" She gave Barbossa a smug look, as if you say 'I've seen you naked, old man.'

Barbossa, who had quickly composed himself, returned her look with one of his own, which said something along the lines of 'I saw _you_ naked, lass, and still yeh failed to seduce me.'

He actually said, "I'm not keepin' it secret, lass. Had anyone bothered to ask, I'd have answered happily enough." It was his turn to look smug. "Yeh be lookin' at a man and his wife."

"Well…" Yanmei looked Elizabeth up and down. "…she is pretty. But why marry? What is the gain?"

He could see her mind working, trying to understand the logic, the angle to such a match. Trying to grasp why she had been rejected. He smiled and shrugged. "We be the marryin' types, I suppose."


	24. Chapter 24

**Waste Not**

 **Deleted Scene, between Ch. 18 and 19**

The canons fired, and the _Pearl_ was fired upon in equal measure. At almost any time in the past, the thunder and cacophony of it all would have been thrilling to Barbossa, but not today. Today, the clash of steel and the splintering of wood did not excite, and the pepper of gunfire served only to worry him. He hated the fight they were in; hated everything about it. On the day he needed calm seas more than anything, here he was fighting for everything he had, and he despised the opposing ship for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

All he could think about was Elizabeth. Even before the battle had arisen, she had been frightened and in pain. How terrified must she be now, with the ship getting blown to hell all around her? One misplaced bullet, one stray cannonball, and it was over. Everything worth living for, gone in a blink. He fought harder.

* * *

Finally. _Finally_ , the chaos ceased, and for just a moment, Barbossa stood still. He was aware of the smell of smoke and blood. He could vaguely hear the groans of wounded men. But all he could feel was regret for the chaos. And the dread of what it might have cost him.

At last, he turned towards his quarters and strode to the door, not even bothering to give a final order. Anxiously, he went inside. To his relief, Elizabeth was where he had left her, and she was alive, though it was disconcerting to see how torn up the room around her was. He went to her side immediately and sat on the edge of the bed, but he didn't speak at first. She was struggling as her labor became only more and more intense, and she trembled still from the fear of getting blown to smithereens.

There was so little he could do for her.

Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped some of the perspiration from her face and then took her hand. "We're safe now. There'll be no more disturbances." Barbossa was ragged and tired, and he felt absolutely sick with worry over her, but he kept his voice gentle and steady. Offering her a calm presence was the least he could do.

"Hector…" Her voice sounded so fearful. It stung his heart. "I can't do this. Not on my own. I can't."

A tear formed in her eye, but he wiped it away before it could fall. "Yeh have no choice, lass. 'Twould be foolishness to give up now."

"Hector, I—"

"Captain!" A loud knock interrupted them.

Barbossa's first urge was to strangle whoever it was, but he kept it contained and brushed a stray hair out of Elizabeth's face, giving her half a smile. He then stood and opened the door, glaring.

Pintel flinched under his harsh gaze. "Beggin' your pardon, Captain. What do ya want we should do with the prisoners?"

Barbossa didn't think on it too long. "Kill 'em."

Pintel nodded. "Aye, Captain." He scurried off to fulfill the order.

Barbossa stepped back to Elizabeth, but she wouldn't let him sit again. "Hector, you need to get out there and take care of things."

"They know what to do already, Elizabeth."

"Hector," she said more firmly, "there are men out there about to die. You have to say something. They should see the man who gave the order, at least. You're the captain."

He sighed. "…I'll indulge yeh this once," he said, reluctantly stepping out.

On deck, everything was a mess, and there were several wounded lying wherever they had dropped. Nine uninjured men were bound and being lined up near the edge of the ship. The captain approached them.

"Apologies, gents," he said, "Shame to be wastin' able bodies and all, but yeh got too ambitious. Thought yeh could take the Pearl. Normally, I'd let a few survivors keep survivin', but…well, yeh caught me in a frightful bad mood." With a jerk of his head, he signaled for the executions to start, and the first man was shoved onto the plank.

The line progressed fairly quickly. The eighth man to walk out, however, turned, head held high, and declared, "I will not jump. I simply refuse. You will have to sh—" He was interrupted by one of Barbossa's bullets embedding in his forehead, and he toppled over. The crew found it very amusing.

The ninth man found in terrifying, and as he was pushed towards the plank, reality seemed to sink in. He struggled. "No, wait. Wait!" he cried, "I'm…I'm a doctor. Wait; I'm a doctor! I'm useful! Please, I'm useful!"

Everyone stopped then and looked to the captain. They all seemed to be thinking the same thing. A doctor _would_ be useful.

Barbossa thought for a moment, then waved the man over and pulled him aside. The young man, fresh-faced, blond, and somewhat shorter than the captain, didn't look a day over twenty-seven.

"Ever been a midwife, boy?"

"H-Have I ever delivered a baby, do you mean? No, sir. Well, never by myself, sir. But I-I have helped. That is, I assisted another doctor once."

"That'll do. Turn him loose," Barbossa ordered.

As soon as the man's hands were free, he grabbed him by the shirt-collar and all but dragged him to the door of his room. Before they entered, however, he spoke a low warning. "If the child dies, I'll kill you. If the woman dies, I'll kill you." He looked hard into the younger man's fearful eyes. "If they both die, I'll make the dyin' so slow, yeh won't even _believe_ in death anymore." The last words were hardly more than a whisper, but they sent a horrifying chill up the doctor's spine. Then suddenly, the doors were opened.

Elizabeth was more than a little surprised by the new presence and shot a quizzical look at Barbossa.

"Seems we caught ourselves a doctor," he explained.

* * *

The hours that followed were some of the hardest the captain had ever faced. He had stayed by Elizabeth's side for a long while, but eventually the doctor suggested that he wait outside. Elizabeth seemed to trust the young man at that point, so he obeyed, and deep down he was glad for the fresh air. But the anxiety caught up with him quickly. Elizabeth, his beautiful, fiery, young wife was in danger as far as he was concerned, and he was entirely helpless. The only thing he knew for certain was that sometime tonight, he would either be the happiest man alive or the most sorrowful, and the wait to find out was killing him.

As the evening grew darker, the ship became more and more still. The crew picked up on their captain's unease and remained quiet and distant as he looked out over the dimming water. He stood and he listened to the sea lapping against the hull, trying to focus on the ocean, the sky, the _Pearl_ —the things that had always given him purpose. But then a deep, aching scream would escape the closed doors of his room. He gripped the railing and shut his eyes, his body rigid.

Barbossa hadn't realized until this day just how much he needed Elizabeth. He couldn't picture life without her anymore. Did she know that? Did she know that being a husband to her was the best purpose he'd ever had?

And being a father might be an even greater one, he thought. Will I get the chance?

* * *

The other half of eternity finally ticked by. Barbossa stood just outside the bedroom door, listening for an opportune moment to go back in. He believed he found it when he heard a triumphant-sounding cry from the doctor, and he opened the door.

His eyes went to Elizabeth first. She looked exhausted, but not unhealthy, and her eyes spilled over with happy tears as the doctor placed a newly wrapped bundle in her arms.

"Hector…" She reached out to him.

He was with her in two strides. Gently, he eased down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. Now he looked at the baby.

It was brown-headed, and smaller than he'd expected, but perfect. He had never seen anything so perfect.

"It's a boy, Captain," the doctor said with a smile, "You have a son."

Barbossa looked at the man for a moment, but didn't say anything. He was torn between thanking him and telling him to get out. The doctor seemed to get the idea.

"I'll tell the crew the good news, sir, if you'll permit me."

"Fine," Barbossa answered kindly.

"Oh, wait," Elizabeth said, "You must tell us your name, doctor. Please."

"My name is Alonzo Porter, ma'am."

Elizabeth looked vaguely disappointed at that. "Do you have a middle name?"

"Um, yes. Robert."

At that, she smiled.

"That'll be all for now, Dr. Porter," said Barbossa, and at last they were left alone.

Immediately, he pulled her head closer and kissed her temple. He kept their heads pressed together for several moments, not knowing how to say what he was feeling in that moment.

At length, Elizabeth whispered, "We have a son, Hector."

He took a deep breath. "Aye. Well done, lass." He kissed her again. "Well done."

Cautiously, Barbossa ran a couple fingers over the child's head. He was so vulnerable and smooth and new. His father's tough, gnarled hand made for a ridiculous contrast.

"Can we name him Robert?" Elizabeth asked.

Her husband half-chuckled. "I'd have let yeh name him Alonzo if it had pleased you."

"I like Robert much better…Robert Barbossa."

"Robert Barbossa," he echoed quietly, his curiosity entirely focused on the child now.

For a few minutes, they said nothing more as they let it all truly sink in. They joyful quiet was broken finally by Elizabeth.

"I love you, Hector," she said softly.

He took another deep breath, and then whispered his response in her ear. "…I love you, Elizabeth."

* * *

 **Darling readers :)**

 **I'd like to extend my heartfelt thanks to Mrs. Marple Poirot for encouraging me to pick this up again. If it hadn't been for you, Mrs. Poirot, I would have left this sitting for a much longer time. Please, if you have any requests regarding the continuation of these deleted scenes, or any of my stories, do not hesitate to ask. I will try my best for you. For this story especially, let me know what you think. I'm running short on ideas for more scenes.**

 **You, or anyone else who is interested, are more than welcome to PM me.**

 **Again, much appreciation to everyone who is reading my work.**

 **All my love.**


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